


Exit: Light

by hexmaniacchoco



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Bunker Fic, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Castiel in the Bunker, Gen, Gore, Hallucinations, Horror, Hugs, Light Angst, Men of Letters Bunker, Protective Dean Winchester, Saving People Hunting Things, Supernatural Canon Big Bang 2017, Team Free Will, Team as Family, a bit anyway, because they kind of all need one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 00:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11612259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexmaniacchoco/pseuds/hexmaniacchoco
Summary: Dean, Sam, and Cas are relaxing in the bunker when Sam finds them a case involving three college students who got themselves into trouble while playing a summoning game they found online, resulting in a nearly fatal incident. After investigating and figuring out what it is that people are summoning into their homes, they decide to summon it as well in order to kill it. However, things aren't quite what they seem at first, and a misjudgement of the situation finds them with the disadvantage as they walk around a pitch-black bunker trying to search out the creature they're hunting without mistaking each other for it instead.





	Exit: Light

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank [majesticduxk](http://majesticduxk.tumblr.com/) for being awesome enough to do a not-so-quick beta read of this for me, and the just as awesome artist paired with me, [quiescentcastiel](http://quiescentcastiel.tumblr.com/), [for the amazing artwork they created for it](http://quiescentcastiel.tumblr.com/post/163432828928/heres-my-art-for-hexmaniacchocos-super-creepy)! 
> 
> Check out their works on AO3 as well!  
> [quiescentcastiel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/quiescentcas)  
> [majesticduxk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticduxk/pseuds/majesticduxk)

Light shone suddenly over a small area of a room as someone lit a candle. The glow cast shadows on his face, and he turned to check them out in a mirror hanging from the wall to his left. He chuckled lowly, in an attempt at sounding spooky, but it turned into a laugh.  
  
A girl's voice called out from another room nearby. "Greg! Are you done?"  
  
"Yeah! How about you?", he replied, lowering the candle from his face.  
  
"Yeah we're done. I already found Tony, and we're heading over to you so like, stay there for a bit."  
  
"Yeah, ok."  
  
Greg straightened his shirt with his free hand. He wore a baggy pair of jeans with the largest pockets he could find. Still, the canister of Morton salt he fit in there was too tall and stuck out of the top, causing his shirt to rumple around it and ride up unevenly. A few moments later his friends walked into the room from the opposite side, and set their candles down on a coffee table. The girl readjusted a clip holding the messy bun of hair on her head. Tony stood next to her and placed his hands into the pockets at the front of his hoodie.  
  
"So, how long are we waiting Jenny?" he asked her.  
  
She picked her candle up again and replied. "This one is until sunrise."  
  
"Awww, come on...."  
  
"Hey it's not like we aren't prepared," Greg said. Earlier that day, they had filled a small cooler with bottles of beer, and bought back-ups in case they ran low. "This isn't different from how we normally hang out."    
  
"Yeah. Except it’s pitch black. And we can't play any games, or watch any TV, or do pretty much anything," Tony said.  
  
"Oh my god,you can live without the x-box for a single night, Tony," Jenny laughed, and then added, "Can't you?"  
  
Tony rolled his eyes. "Whatever. STFU Jenny--"  
  
"Did you just say 'STFU'? Oh my god! 'L.O.L.' Tony."  
  
"Guys--" Greg interrupted before the mood went from light-hearted to tense. "It's not like we've never just hung out before. It's not even like we haven't played any of these dumb games before, and this one isn't much longer than the others. So it'll be fine; we'll sit around like usual and have some drinks and just chill."  
  
"Says the guy with a can of freaking salt in his pocket," Jenny said.  
  
Tony laughed. "Just put it on the table. It's not like anything's gonna actually happen anyway."  
  
"Hey--I am _prepared_ ," Greg boasted, taking a step back and patting the salt can. "One of these days, one of these dumb games we play is going to be more than drunken hallucinations and pranks, and when that day comes I don't want to be on the wrong side of the horror movie."  
  
Jenny and Tony snickered.  
  
"Yeah ok. I'm gonna go grab us some beers from the cooler. Be back in a bit," Tony said, picking up his candle and heading back through the doorway to the kitchen.

* * *

  
  
Once in the kitchen, Tony set his candle on the counter and stooped down to open the cooler on the floor. He took three bottles, placing two in his arm to make room for the candle. He was considering if he should bring more or not when the light around him faded suddenly and he was left in the dark.  
  
"Man..."  
  
He put the beers down and stood up, fishing a lighter from his hoodie pocket. As the area around him filled with light again, he thought he saw movement in the shadows to his side and jumped. After catching his breath, he laughed a bit. He stuck the lighter back into his pocket and bent down to pick up the three bottles on the floor, then reached in the cooler, grabbing another three. He placed two in his hoodie pocket and bundled three in his arm, with the sixth one held in his hand. With his free hand he closed the cooler. He stood up, picked up his candle, and headed back to the front room where Jenny and Greg were waiting.

* * *

  
  
"--and so this old dude just like came up to me and started telling me how I should pay attention to my surroundings and not stare at my phone all the time when outside, so I just interrupted him to say 'Shh! You'll scare away the vulpix', and he just shook his head and walked away. I was so proud of myself. Like, I never think of good comebacks when I need them," Jenny finished, taking a drink after.  
  
"Man, me neither," Tony laughed. "Good job, Jenny."  
  
Greg stifled his own laughter. "Yeah, nice. That's like this one time I--"  
  
He stopped mid sentence, letting his mouth hang open as all three candles flickered out.  
  
"Did they run out already?" Tony asked. He pulled out his lighter and leaned forward to relight his candle.  
  
"That's freaking creepy," Jenny said, doing the same.  
  
Greg reached for his salt can, which sat next to the candles on the coffee table. "Light mine too, Jenny?" he asked.  
  
Jenny lit his right after her own. Greg didn't put the salt back onto the table, and continued holding it in his hands instead. "Do you think we lit them in time?" he asked somewhat nervously.  
  
"Yeah, probably. I mean it's not like something put them out anyway..." Jenny answered him.  
  
"Screw that. That was worse than when mine went out in the kitchen when I was getting the drinks," Tony said.  
  
"Yours went out before--" Greg started, but stopped just as suddenly as when the lights had went out.  
  
"Greg?" Tony asked.  
  
"It's... nothing. I thought I saw something move over by the stairs, but I think it was just the light moving from the candle..." Greg answered, sounding unsure despite his words.  
  
"Me too!" Tony said quickly. "Earlier when I relit my candle I thought I saw things moving too, but it was just the candlelight. I felt so stupid."  
  
"Ugh, this is what we get for downing two beers in half an hour. Can we move to the living room or something? I'm getting kind of creeped out," Jenny said.  
  
"Yeah we might as well. Also speak for yourself Jenny. I still have one," Tony said, lifting the unopened bottle for emphasis.  
  
"Alright, grab your candles guys," Greg said.  
  
They picked them up along with their unfinished drinks, and brought them to the dining table in the next room over. They were just sitting down when Jenny froze.  
  
"Do you guys hear that...?" she asked.  
  
"Hear what?" they asked in reply.  
  
"That weird noise coming from somewhere. I can't figure out which direction," she answered, her voice quieting as she spoke.    
  
They all stopped and  listened. A faint sound, like people whispering, or hissing, or both, became audible in the silence. Greg spoke up first, his own voice low. "Yeah, I think I hear it... I don't know what that is, but it's probably the fridge or some other machine, and it sounds weird because beer."  
  
"Yeah, we've made that mistake before," Tony added. "I hear it too though, and that's the creepiest sounding fridge noise I ever heard."  
  
Jenny shivered. "It's freaking cold, too. I mean I know it's the air conditioning but bad timing," she said, tugging the sleeves of her shirt down.  
  
Greg puffed his cheeks and blew some air out. "Well, I don't know about you guys but I'm going to need more alcohol for this. I've already finished half of my other bottle."  
  
"Oh, get me some too?" Jenny asked him.  
  
"Tony, you want me to get you another too?"  
  
"I'll have another, sure."  
  
"Ok, then I'll be right back," Greg said simply, standing and getting his candle from the table.  
  
"Don't forget your salt, Mr. I'm Prepared," Tony taunted.  
  
"Oh right. Thanks," Greg responded, grabbing the can and putting it into his jeans pocket again. "If you guys need it I'll just be like 50 feet away in the other room. Try not to trip over invisible objects on your way over if Ghostface busts through a window or something though."  
  
He left before they could say something back and headed into the kitchen and to the cooler. He set his candle on the countertop and opened it, frowning at the two bottles inside.  
  
"Gonna' need at least one more," he said to himself. "I should restock it too."  
  
He stood back up, leaving the cooler open, and walked over to the fridge. It hummed quietly. As he reached for its handle, he was struck by a sudden feeling of uneasiness. In fact, the closer his hand got to it, the more unsettled he became, and when he was holding it he hesitated. He wasn't sure why he felt that way, but he shrugged it off and pointedly opened the door before he could have second thoughts and have to explain that he was too creeped out to get more beer a mere room over. Fluorescent light flooded out, washing away the soft glow of the candle on the other side of the room. Greg grabbed two six-packs, angling them so he could hold both handles in one hand, and closed the door. As he did so, he thought he glimpsed a figure standing just on the other side of the door, right next to him. He gasped and stumbled back. With the door closed, the room was suddenly completely dark and Greg couldn't see anything. He guessed the candle must have gone out while he was getting the beer and he didn't notice. He walked backwards from the fridge slowly, waiting for his eyes to adjust. When they did enough for him to make out the basic shapes around him, he closed his eyes briefly in relief when he saw nothing near the fridge door. It was probably an optical illusion caused by the way his eyes registered the quick darkness following the door closing.  
  
He turned quickly and jogged lightly to where his candle was on the counter, pulling out his lighter on the way. He set the cases down and relit the candle just as fast. Adrenaline was causing his heart to beat wildly. He was pretty sure he made it in time. He had only been in the fridge for a handful of seconds, and everything else probably only took another few seconds. Nothing seemed to be happening. He laughed at that quietly. Of course nothing happened. He bent down and added the new beers to the cooler, grabbed three before shutting it again, and picked up his candle to return to the living room.

* * *

  
  
"Why's he taking so long?"  
  
Jenny stood from the table, moving towards the kitchen doorway. When she got there, Greg suddenly walked through, startling her.  
  
"God! Greg!" she shouted, clutching her chest. "You scared me!"  
  
He slowed down, looking in confusion at the table. He set the drinks and candle down and looked around the room. "Hello...?" he called out.  
  
He took a step forward apprehensively, but then stopped.  
  
"Greg what the hell?" Jenny asked in confusion. "This is dumb."  
  
Greg ignored her and instead cautiously backed up, past Jenny, until he was in the kitchen doorway again. "Guys...? This isn't funny," he called out. "I'm already creeped out. I'm not in the mood for pranks. I mean it."  
  
Tony gave Jenny an unsure look, and then looked back at Greg. "Greg...?" he tried, a small laugh joining the words.  
  
Greg's eyes immediately shot down to where Tony was sitting. They widened, and he took in a shaky breath. "No... no this isn't..." He stepped back defensively, his hand grabbing at the countertop beside him.  
  
"Dude seriously..." Jenny said.  
  
"Yeah man, this is a lame attempt to scare us," Tony added.  
  
Greg just rubbed his eyes and moved further back. Jenny moved towards him. "Come on--"  
  
"Stay away--just--just get out of here," Greg interrupted her, his voice shaking.  
  
"Greg--" Jenny tried again, but when she moved closer Greg turned and pulled a chef's knife from a block and pointed it at her.  
  
She stepped back, raising her hands in front of her. Tony stood up abruptly. "Come on Greg, you're going too far now," he said, moving to stand next to Jenny.  
  
"Get away!" Greg shouted, swinging the knife widely in front of himself.  
  
He glanced over his shoulder quickly. Tony took it as an opportunity and rushed forward, grabbing Greg's still outstretched arm. Greg started screaming and shook it wildly, trying to break free.  
  
Jenny joined him, grabbing hold of Greg's other arm and trying to restrain him. He shook them both free, and before either could react, plunged the knife into Tony's side.  
  
Tony cried out and stumbled back, and Greg shoved past him, running through the doorway.  
  
"Tony!" Jenny shouted, running over to him.  
  
She bent down to give him her shoulder for support, and started moving him towards the front door. From the second floor, they could hear Greg calling out for them desperately, telling them they had to get out of there.  
  
Jenny whispered to Tony, "We're going outside, and I'm calling the police."  
  
Tony just nodded, and slowly moved forwards with her through the darkness, clutching his side. Once they were at the front door, Jenny let him lean against the wall for a moment before pulling her cell phone from her pocket and, sniffling,  opened  the door as quietly as she could. When it was open enough for them both to get through, she helped Tony out first and shut the door quickly, taking care not to let it slam. She glanced in the window nervously, almost dropping her phone when she saw a dark figure standing there. She blinked and it was gone.  
  
"What the f...," she started, but stopped when she looked over at Tony, still at her side. Her eyes widened. She screamed.

* * *

  
  
"Scoot over, Cas," Dean said, placing a bowl of popcorn down in front of him.  
  
Cas moved his chair to make room for Dean in front of the laptop. Sam looked up from where he sat across the table in front of his own laptop.  
  
"You know, I could use some help finding cases, Dean."  
  
"Sorry Sam, but I've been wanting to show Cas some good horror flicks," Dean replied, reaching over to scroll through Netflix. "Besides," he continued, "I helped earlier."  
  
"Actually Dean, if I recall correctly, you opened up one news page and saw an article about 'The Bye-Bye Man', and then told me we should watch a 'real horror movie'--"  
  
Dean looked at Cas.  
  
"--It probably wasn't as helpful as--"  
  
"Not helping, Cas," Dean interrupted.  
  
Sam glanced appreciatively over at Cas for a moment before looking back to Dean. "Thank you for making my point, Cas. And Dean, it's been a little over a week and we still haven't found anything."  
  
Cas nodded at Sam in reply, and Dean sighed.  
  
"Look, I know we've had our version of a vacation and it's time to get back to work, but come on, Sam. You haven't found anything all day. We don't have leads on anything else. It can wait until tomorrow. Why don't you come and watch this with us?" he said, continuing his scrolling.  
  
"Thanks, but I've seen Evil Dead enough times, Dean."  
  
Dean looked back up at him quickly. "It's a great movie," he defended, "and that's not what we're watching anyway."  
  
"We haven't found something to watch yet," Cas added, taking over the scrolling, "and it would be nice to have you join us, Sam."    
  
Sam sighed this time, and looked back to his laptop. "Alright, well, I'll look around until you guys decide on something," he said.  
  
"That's the spirit, Sammy," Dean replied.  
  
"What about this one?" Cas asked, pointing to the screen.  
  
Dean looked back at his laptop, at the movie Cas was pointing to. "'The Mist'? Nah, the ending of that one wasn't all that good," he answered. "Hey, see if they have 'The Exorcist'."  
  
"'The Exorcist', Dean? Really?” Sam asked him, raising an eyebrow but otherwise not looking up from the news website he was skimming.  
  
"It has its inaccuracies, but it's a good story," Dean countered. "And we hunt the kind of stuff in other movies all the time. Doesn't stop us from enjoying them."  
  
"I agree with Sam," Cas said. "If it's all the same to you, Dean, I would rather not watch it at this moment."  
  
"Alright, alright," Dean said, giving up. "My bad. What else we got?"  
  
Cas scrolled further through the movies. "Let's see..."  
  
"Wait a minute, hold on a second-- go back to that other one," Dean said suddenly, leaning forward.  
  
Cas clicked on a movie a few titles back, and they waited as the information appeared on the screen.  
  
"I knew I spotted her name," Dean said, the excitement clear in his voice. "We gotta' watch this one.  Tara Benchley stars in it."  
  
Sam laughed lightly from across the table.  
  
"That would be why you'd choose that movie, Dean," he said.  
  
Cas looked at Dean with curiosity, and Sam explained.  
  
"Dean and I worked a case in Hollywood once, and he uh... got to know her."  
  
"In more ways than one," Dean added with a wink.  
  
"Yeah," Sam finished, giving Dean a look. "He's a big fan."  
  
"What? She's hot!" he defended, then continued, "She is a good actress though. Not her fault when the plot sucks."  
  
"I see," Cas said, glancing at Dean briefly before looking back at the movie on the screen. "I don't mind this movie if that's what you want to watch."  
  
"Sammy?" Dean asked.  
  
"As long as it's not 'Hell Hazers 3', I'm in," Sam said.  
  
"Well it isn't, so we're watchin' it," Dean said, leaning back a little in his chair.  
  
"Let me just...finish skimming this...," Sam said slowly, focusing on his own screen in front of him.  
  
"Sammy if you haven't found one yet--"  
  
"Oh--wait a second...," Sam interrupted, "I think I just did find something..."  
  
"What is it?" Cas asked him, leaning forward.  
  
Sam didn't answer right away, instead continuing to read for a few more seconds. When he was done, he looked to Cas first and then Dean.  
  
"So get this," he started, "local authorities in Topeka responded to a call the other night from a girl who claimed that one of her friends stabbed the other. When the police got there, they found the girl hiding behind a bush, completely terrified and in tears. They assumed it was because of, you know, the stabbing. But when they approached her, she started screaming for them to stay away from her."  
  
"What about the person who was stabbed?" Cas asked.  
  
"Yeah, and for that matter, the person who did the stabbing," Dean added.  
  
"They found the stab victim halfway to the backyard, still alive but unconscious. The friend who went Psycho on him was found inside the house. He still had the knife, and apparently threatened the police with it. It says here though that he suddenly collapsed when they started to approach him. The paramedics said he suffered a heart attack."  
  
"So, what? He died?" Dean asked.  
  
"Uhh... no. He lived. His friend too...," Sam replied, looking over the article again. "In fact, all three of them are still alive."  
  
"That's great, but how do we know this is a case? I mean, it sounds like it could have been anything--drugs, booze, jealousy..."  
  
"All three of them were taken to the hospital for drug testing. The toxicology reports came back negative. The police did find a lot of alcohol in the house, and this paper is going with the cause ultimately being drunkenness, but I still think there might be something else to it."  
  
"What makes you say that?" Cas asked him.  
  
"Well, when the reporter interviewed the girl the next day, she mentioned that her and her friends were playing a game they found online," Sam replied.  
  
"Ok so they were 'open-minded' and maybe into some weird stuff. What does it have to do with us?" Dean asked again.  
  
Sam stared at him for a second before replying flatly, "Not that kind of game, Dean."  
  
"What kind then?"  
  
"A game to summon an evil spirit," Sam answered pointedly, "according to the girl. This article concluded that they all got drunk, the game messed with their imaginations, and that caused one to attack the other in a panic."  
  
"If they summoned an angry spirit, or demon, it's possible the one who attacked his friends was possessed," Cas stated.  
  
"Yeah, but that doesn't explain the girl," Dean said, leaning forward as well now.  
  
"I don't know. People have different reactions to these things. Maybe she just had a breakdown," Sam suggested.  
  
Dean stretched his arms over his head. "Well, Topeka's only a few hours from here. We'll check it out tomorrow, first thing," he said. He reached over to the popcorn bowl and picked up a few kernels to eat. "Now, you comin' or what?"  
  
"Yeah, let me just shut down my laptop," Sam answered without looking up. "What are we watching, anyway?"  
  
"'Carnivore Carnival'," Cas answered.  
  
Sam glared at Dean. "Does it have clowns in it, Dean?"  
  
"Eh, probably not any killer ones," he answered, shoving a small handful of popcorn in his mouth.  
  
Sam's glare didn't let up.  
  
"Come on, Sam. We've fought worse. We've fought actual killer clowns and imaginary killer clowns before. You'll be fine," Dean tried to convince him. He added, "The movie even got four and a half stars. It'll be fun."  
  
"If it helps you, Sam, I will keep you both safe should any clowns break in with murderous intent," Cas offered.  
  
Dean started choking on his popcorn with laughter, nearly spitting it out. Sam sighed heavily.  
  
"Thanks, Cas...for that..." he said, and continued with resignation, "I'll watch it. But Dean, I'll get you back for this."  
  
Dean waived it off. "Ok Sammy. We're hitting play now. Pull up a chair and eat some popcorn."

* * *

  
  
They arrived in Topeka the next day around noon. They had left early, expecting a full day of interviews; to save time, Dean agreed to interview the officer who took the girl and her knife-happy friend in, while Sam and Cas interviewed the doctors and victim. Dean parked the Impala in an unkempt lot outside of the police station. They were running their investigation as the FBI--always a useful disguise--so Dean checked to make sure his suit was clean, his tie straight, and his hair neat before getting out of the car. He walked with confidence toward the small building, reaching into his pocket to get his ID ready.  
  
The main lobby of the police department was spacious, contradicting the building's more compact appearance outside. Dean figured it must take up a good portion of the entire station. The surrounding area was mostly residential--short brick houses and green lawns and all that--so the holding cells and offices probably wouldn't require much room. Most of the time they likely saw more delinquents and drunks visiting than anything. Dean approached the only open counter, one clerk typing away on the other side of a large window. She hadn't noticed him, so he cleared his throat to get her attention. She looked up abruptly, apparently startled from her work, and gave him a quick once over. "Can I... help you, sir...?" she asked, still eyeing him.  
  
Dean flashed her a smile and pulled out his badge. "Agent Townshend, FBI," he told her, "Is an Officer Biggs here?"  
  
"Why are the FBI here? Is it... is it about those kids they brought in the other day?"  
  
"That's something I'd like to discuss with Officer Biggs, if he's here, ma'am," Dean replied in a professional voice, still smiling.  
  
"Oh, um, of course," she said, blushing and looking back at her computer. Dean waited while she typed in something. A moment later, she continued, "Yes, he is in now. Would you like to schedule a meeting with him?"    
  
"I'd like to see him now, if you don't uh, mind," Dean answered. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the counter. "It's kind of urgent."  
  
"Oh, right, FBI," she said, putting her hand to her forehead in embarrassment, "I'll go let him know you're here."  
  
"Thanks," Dean said.  
  
The clerk disappeared down a hallway, and Dean stepped back from the counter to wait. Just a few moments later, she reappeared and walked over to a door to the side, opening it.  
  
"He said he'll see you now, so I'll show you to his office," she said, with a little more confidence than earlier.  
  
Dean figured she must not have dealt with federal agents before. Either that or it was his looks. Probably both. He knew he looked good in a suit.  
  
"Thanks," he said again, smiling and tossing in a wink before following her through the doorway and down the hallway.  
  
When they got to the office, a man of average build greeted them, inviting Dean to have a seat.  
  
"Officer Biggs?" Dean asked.  
  
"Yes, that's me," Biggs replied, leaning back into his chair.  
  
"Huh. I kind of pictured you a little more... you know...," Dean started with a chuckle, moving his hands apart to demonstrate what he meant rather than finish. Luckily, Biggs seemed to have a good sense of humor to him, and he laughed in reply.  
  
"My name is misleading I guess, yeah," he said, then coughed a little and continued with a cordial grin, "So. What brings the Bureau to the Park Street police department?"  
  
Dean pulled the chair across the desk out and took a seat, folding his hands in his lap as he did.  
  
"We've been informed about a case you guys dealt with a few nights ago, one involving a couple of kids, a knife, and too much--," Dean made a drinking gesture and raised his eyebrows expectantly.  
  
Biggs' face took on a somewhat more serious look.  
  
"Oh, you mean the kids just north of the university."  
  
"Those'd be the ones," Dean answered, though there hadn't really been a question.  
  
Biggs sighed.  
  
"I don't know what that was about, really," he said. "It's not as if we haven't had any violent crime before but... this was just bizarre."  
  
Dean sat up a little more. "How so?" he asked.  
  
Biggs cocked an eyebrow at him.  
  
"What did you hear about it?"  
  
"Well," Dean started, considering his words, "just that a girl, uh--Jennifer Rivera, called in about one of her friends attacking the other, her too almost. That they weren't high on anything when it happened, and probably not drunk like the papers said either. Jennifer claimed they were playing a game, and that her friend was uh... affected by it. Do you know anything about that?"  
  
Biggs folded his hands on his desk. "She did mention that to us, yeah. Honestly Agent, at the time--when we arrived at the house, we thought they must have been on something, or just drunk out of their minds."  
  
"Yeah? What makes you say that?"  
  
"It was difficult for dispatch to make out what she was saying on her call. She was clearly scared and speaking quietly, but wasn't answering any of our questions. We had to trace the call to get the address. We got there and found her hiding behind a bush outside the front window," Biggs said, pausing to drink some coffee. He continued after a long sip.  
  
"You'd think that she'd be happy to see us, right?"  
  
Dean furrowed his brows. "There was an article my partner found that suggested otherwise… So… she wasn't?"  
  
"She was hysterical, terrified. Inconsolable, too. She screamed when one of my men found her and tried to fight him when he approached her. At first we thought it was the shock of the situation, that she thought he was her roommate looking to finish the job or something like that. But she wasn't calming down at all, so it was assumed she was on drugs, or drunk. It took two people to wrestle her into a pair of cuffs and into the backseat," Biggs answered.  
  
Dean whistled. "What about the other two?"  
  
"One of my men found Tony Gillespie collapsed halfway to the backyard. The paramedics told us he lost consciousness from blood loss. Good thing we got there, or the kid'd be dead probably. As for Gregory Langdon, we found him in the house in the second floor hallway looking for the friends he'd just nearly killed, knife still in hand, saying something about needing to get away from 'them'. We managed to disarm him and get him in cuffs, and he was as bad as the girl was. The only difference was he suffered a heart attack and had to be carried off to the hospital too," Biggs explained. "We thought for sure it had to have been some kind of substance abuse."  
  
"But now?" Dean inquired.  
  
"But the doctors said there wasn't any trace of narcotics in their system--not even pot. And the BAC wasn't too bad either. It matched what we found while investigating the house. There was a good amount of liquor, but most of it was left undrunk. It looked like they each only had one or two bottles before we got the call. We did find some odd things though," Biggs said.  
  
"Odd like what?" Dean asked.  
  
Biggs waved his hand and squinted at Dean. "Tell me, Agent Townshend. Are you here because of possible occult matters or something?"  
  
"Something like that, yeah," Dean replied casually.  
  
"She wasn't lying about them messing around with things, let's just say. The whole house was pitch black when we entered it. I mean even the stove clocks were turned off. After we apprehended Gregory we had to turn them all on in order to do a quick investigation. We found three candles that had been recently lit on a table in the living room, so I guess that's what they had been using to see. There was something else, too... We almost missed it, but by the front door there was this scrap of paper. It had Gregory's full name written on it--first, middle, last--and some strange looking symbols written all around the edges, and a small blood stain on it. We found two others just like it, each next to a different door and with the names of the other two kids on them," Biggs explained. "I don't know what they were doing in there--witchcraft, cult stuff, whatever it was... But they got themselves into a whole lot of trouble there."  
  
Dean just nodded. "Well, thank you, Officer, for the information. It'll be very helpful for us in getting to the bottom of the matter."  
  
"Happy to help," Biggs replied, leaning forward and extending his hand across the desk for Dean to shake, "Just find out what it is these kids were doing and put a stop to it."  
  
Dean shook his hand and stood up. "Actually sir, before I go, do you think I could get a look at those paper scraps you found?"

* * *

  
  
"So you're saying that all the reports came back negative for any drugs, Dr. Pepperman?" Sam asked, flipping his notepad open again to jot down the answer.  
  
Dr. Pepperman adjusted his glasses. "Yes, that's right," he answered, "which is why we found the state they were in upon arrival to be so strange."  
  
"You mean the hallucinatory state?" Cas clarified.  
  
"Yes," Dr. Pepperman confirmed, and then looking at Cas over his glasses, elaborated,  "All three of them were downright inconsolable. My patient, Tony, eventually lost consciousness again--this time for the rest of the night. But the other two, they had to be restrained and sedated all the way until morning. One of them had had a heart attack not hours earlier too. I couldn’t believe it. One of the nurses went to check up on them around sunrise, and they were finally asleep.  I had to wake them up once I got in to work, and they were perfectly fine."  
  
"A good night's sleep and they were fine, just like that?" Sam asked.  
  
“That seems to be the case, agents,” he replied, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.  
  
“Huh,” Sam said in response, looking to the side at Cas and meeting his eyes, neither of them quite sure what to make of the case.  
  
“Well, will that be all then?” Dr. Pepperman asked, looking between Sam and Cas expectantly. “I uh, have a lot of charts to go through,” he added, lifting a clipboard in his hand to demonstrate.  
  
“Oh! Uh, no, that’s all we need to know for now. Thank you for your time,” Sam said, extending his hand to the doctor to finish their meeting.  
  
Cas shook his hand as well. “Yes, thank you,” he said.  
  
As they turned to leave, Dr. Pepperman grabbed Cas’ shoulder to stop them. “If you two have any other questions just give me a call,” he said, holding out a business card.  
  
Cas accepted the card and put it into his pocket. “Thank you. We will,” he said, nodding at the doctor before turning back to the door and heading to leave. Sam however turned back around toward Dr. Pepperman, raising his finger slightly up.  
  
“Actually--would we be able to talk with the stab victim, if he’s awake?” he asked.  
  
“Sure, of course,” the doctor answered and pointing where he spoke, told them, “He’s just down this hall, room 731. It’ll be on your right.”  
  
“Thanks,” Sam replied. He turned back to Cas and they left the doctor to his work.  
  
Once outside the office and the door was shut, Sam turned to Cas. “You think it could be some form of ghost sickness or something?” he asked, keeping his voice low so the nurse at the nearby desk couldn’t overhear.  
  
They started towards the room their next interviewee was in.  
  
“It’s possible,” Cas answered. “Especially if it was a ghost that they summoned that night.”  
  
“I guess we’ll know once we’re done talking to the victims,” Sam said, shrugging.  
  
They arrived at the room shortly, and after giving a brief knock to announce themselves, opened the door and went inside. The door shut behind them with a soft click.  
  
“Hello? Uh… Tony…?” Sam asked into the room.  
  
“Yeah, that’s me,” Tony answered, looking tiredly at them as Sam and Cas approached his bed.  
  
They stopped at the foot of it, not wanting to crowd him. “Would you mind if we talked to you about what happened to you?” Sam queried.  
  
Tony’s eyes widened and he tried to sit up more, wincing and taking a sharp breath as he did, and ultimately just falling back onto his bed again. “Are we in trouble or something?” he managed.  
  
“No no, you’re not,” Sam reassured him, holding his arms out in supplication to emphasize it, “We just need to ask you and your friends some things about it, that’s all.”  
  
Tony visibly relaxed in his bed. “Alright. Shoot,” he said. He gestured to some chairs at the side of his bed.  
  
“Are either you or your two friends involved in the occult?” Cas started, as he and Sam took a seat.  
  
“What? No way!” Tony replied, looking affronted. Sam gave him a politely skeptical look, and he continued in defense. “Look, it was just a stupid game, ok?”  
  
“A stupid game that nearly got you killed,” Sam corrected, “by your friend.”  
  
Tony just looked at them in frustration and put his hand to his forehead. “Look, he-- he didn’t know what he was doing, alright? It wasn’t his fault,” he said.  
  
“That’s why you didn’t press any charges?” Cas asked him.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“You must be pretty patient not to be angry with him,” Sam tried, hoping they could work out some kind of explanation from him.  
  
Tony carefully sat himself up a little more to better face Sam and Cas. “No, I’m pissed at him,” he admitted, “but I understand. You know, if I hadn’t-- if I hadn’t experienced the same thing, I don’t know if I still would.”  
  
“Your doctor tells us that there weren’t any sort of drugs or anything in your systems when the three of you were brought in,” Sam informed him. “So you wanna fill us in on what happened to you guys?”  
  
“I already told everything to the police,” Tony answered, crossing his arms and looking away. “They just thought I was crazy. Thought that Greg and Jenny and me were part of some devil-worshipping cult.”  
  
“We’re not the police,” Cas assured him, tilting his head a little forward in sincerity.  
  
Tony looked back over at them as they sat patiently, waiting for him to explain. He bit his lip, considering it. “We were… we were playing some game that Jenny found,” he started, “Like one of those ones you find online. Or like Bloody Mary or something, you know what I mean?”  
  
Sam nodded as he continued, “Just a dumb game to scare people. We had already played it--well, not this one exactly, but a different version of it-- for Halloween last year and nothing happened.”  
  
“What was the game that you played?” Sam asked.  
  
“And what do you mean by ‘a different version’?” Cas added.  
  
They received a helpless look in reply, before Tony answered. “I don’t know. It was some game where you supposedly summon some ghost or demon or something stupid like that, and you’re supposed to walk around avoiding it until the game is over or something. There were some rules to follow, and if you lost…,” he trailed off for a moment, “What happened to us is what happens if you lose.” He looked over to Cas briefly and answered his question. “The one we played on Halloween was the one you find all over the internet. Jenny likes those things and is usually the one who finds them for us to play. She’s the one who found this one. She said it claimed to be ‘the real one’ or whatever. Apparently that’s true,” he scoffed.  
  
Sam and Cas glanced at each other.  
  
“Tony...did you happen to smell anything like… rotten eggs? Or sulfur, while you were playing?” Sam asked him carefully.  
  
“What? No. Why?” Tony asked in reply.  
  
Sam looked slightly surprised. “Oh. Uh, nothing. Just checking something,” he said. “What uh… what were the rules of the game? How did you guys summon this thing?”  
  
“Wait, so you guys believe me?” Tony laughed somewhat skeptically.  
  
“Yes, we do,” Cas answered, straight-forward, “Which is why we need your cooperation in order to better understand what caused this.”  
  
There was a pause as Tony wondered if they were joking or not. He hadn’t thought anyone would have believed him. When he saw that they meant it, he sighed, and told them, ”I don’t remember all the rules and stuff. There were a lot of them. Jenny has the website and knows it better, so you guys are better off asking her.”  
  
“Alright,” Sam conceded. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”  
  
“Not really,” Tony answered, yawning.    
  
Sam moved to stand up but stopped when Cas asked another question.  
  
“Your doctor said that the three of you suffered hallucinations. What can you tell us about those?”  
  
Tony suddenly looked uncomfortable, and started fidgeting with the edge of the hospital blanket.  
  
“Tony?” Sam asked, “Were they part of what happens when you lose?”  
  
“It… yeah,” he answered. “You see something you’re terrified of, and it lasts until the game ends.”  
  
“That’s what happened to Greg,” Cas supplied.  
  
“Yeah. He-- I don’t know what he saw, but he thought _we_ were it. That’s why he attacked us,” Tony said, and then added, “We didn’t think it would be that bad. We didn’t even think anything would happen.” He yawned again, and shook his head to keep himself awake.  
  
Sam noticed, and this time noticed the bags under his eyes. “Haven’t had much sleep lately?” he asked.  
  
“I can’t,” Tony replied wearily. “I just keep having nightmares, and they always wake me up.”  
  
“That’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot,” Cas said.  
  
“That’s all we need, Tony,” Sam said, standing up to leave. “Thank you for answering our questions.”  
  
As Cas stood up as well, Tony looked between them and asked, “Why are you guys investigating this anyway? I mean what are you gonna do? Fight it?”  
  
“We’re going to find a way to stop it from hurting more people,” Cas answered him simply.  
  
This got a look of disbelief from Tony. “What kind of FBI agents are you guys, anyway?” he asked.  
  
“The ‘spooky’ ones,” Sam replied, chuckling a little to himself at the knowledge that Dean would be rolling his eyes at the reference.  
  
As they made their way to the door, Cas looked at him briefly in confusion before he got it, and then turned back and gave a small smile to Tony. “The kind that ‘want to believe’, ” he added, and then turned and continued with Sam out the door.  
  
As they walked to the car, Sam went over the information they heard, seeing if any of it suggested a particular monster that they’d be dealing with. “So it has to be summoned, and plays with its victims…” he considered.  
  
“If it weren’t for the summoning, a djinn could have been a possibility,” Cas said.  
  
“Yeah, the summoning is the weird part,” Sam agreed. “When he mentioned summoning demons, I thought that’s what it would be. I mean, we haven’t dealt with a demon that wasn’t making deals and just causing havoc in a while, but it’s not all that unlikely.”  
  
“But then he said he didn’t smell any sulphur, so we know it’s not a demon…” Cas added pensively.  
  
“Yeah… Though-- maybe it is something like Bloody Mary,” Sam guessed. He stopped and turned toward Cas, continuing his explanation. “Dean and I had this case way back,  a ghost that sort of took on the urban legend and would appear to those of its victims who played the game. It turned out to be a revenge kind of a thing, but there was a connection there at least, because she died in front of a mirror.”  
  
“It’s within the abilities of ghosts to do that,” Cas agreed.  
  
Sam’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out. “It’s from Dean, says he’s done at the police station and wants to meet us at the house to interview the other two,” he read.  
  
He put his phone back into his pocket, and they continued toward Sam’s car.  
  
“Did he mention anything from the police station?” Cas asked.  
  
“No. I’m guessing he’ll let us know if he found anything later,” Sam replied, getting into the driver side of the car.  
  
 

* * *

  
  
“So… why do the FBI care what happened to us…?” Greg asked, looking in wary confusion to the three men sitting across the table from him and Jenny.  
  
“Because we investigate things. It’s kinda in the title,” Dean answered, leaning back slightly.  
  
Jenny uncrossed her arms and leaned forward a little bit, an amused smile appearing on her face. “So like--”  
  
“Don’t say it,” Dean cut her off, rolling his eyes.  
  
“Anyway,” Sam continued, getting them back to the matter at hand, “there are just some questions we’d like to ask.” He took a drink of the coffee in front of him, and added, “we’ve already spoken to your friend, Tony, at the hospital. He said you guys were playing some kind of game. The newspaper article and reports already told us that much, and Tony wasn’t able to remember much, so we were hoping you both could tell us more about it.”  
  
Greg looked away at the mention of Tony, and Jenny looked at her feet.  
  
“It was supposed to just be a stupid game,” Jenny said, still not looking up.  
  
“Yeah well that’s what they all say right before things turn into a horror show,” Dean commented.  
  
“No, I mean--we’ve played it before, and nothing happened!” she defended, looking back up sharply at him.  
  
“Your friend Tony informed us that you were playing some alternative version you found,” Cas stated.  
  
Jenny looked between them in tired frustration. “Yes, we were. But-- I mean, does that even matter? How many of these games are even out there floating around on the internet, and people play them all the time, and nothing happens? There’s no like, news reports of epidemics of bizarre deaths or anything. No ‘group of kids mysteriously found torn to shreds after game of Three Kings goes wrong’ headlines,” she said.  
  
“Look, you’re not in any trouble,” Sam assuaged her, “We just want to know what happened.”  
  
She sighed, looking over to her friend. “So… a couple of weeks ago, I was talking about when we played that other version online, and… some anon sent me this message. They said they had the ’real’ version or some junk…” she started.    
  
Sam, Dean, and Cas leaned in a little closer, listening as she spoke.  
  
“The rules were pretty much the same, except the summoning ritual was a little different and you had to play it longer,” she continued. “It sounded more hardcore than the other one, so I convinced Tony and Greg to play it with me.”  
  
“I see,” Sam said, pulling out a notebook to write everything down in. “What uh… what are the rules, exactly?”  
  
“You mean like… just what are the rules…? Or do you want to know how to summon it too?” Jenny asked, confused.  
  
“Both, and for both versions too, if you wouldn’t mind,” Dean clarified.  
  
Jenny took a sip from her drink, and thought for a moment. “The one we played before… you had to start by writing your full name on a small piece of paper, and then put a drop of your own blood on it.”  
  
Dean glanced between Sam and Cas, mouthing “blood magic” to them. Neither Greg nor Jenny noticed as she continued explaining the game.  
  
“Then you turn off all the lights in the house. Even the pilot light under the water heater, which is a huge pain, but whatever. Once it’s dark, you find your way to a wooden door where you summon it. You put the paper with your name and blood on the floor in front of it and light a candle. You put the candle on the floor with the paper, then at midnight you knock 22 times before the next minute, open the door, blow out the candle, close the door, and relight it. That’s it.”  
  
“Then you’re playing the game,” Cas said.  
  
Jenny and Greg nodded.  
  
“Then you’re supposed to just walk around the house avoiding the spirit you summoned,”  Greg continued for her. “Like, there are signs and stuff you watch out for, like if it’s getting close to you, and then you just move somewhere else. As long as you do that and follow the rules, you’re fine. All you have to do is wait until 3:33 in the morning, when the game is done and you win.”  
  
Sam laughed a little, “What do you get if you win?”  
  
Jenny and Greg looked at each other, a bit sheepish.  
  
“Nothing,” Jenny replied, “You just win.”  
  
“Wait a second here,” Dean interjected, holding out a hand to stop them from continuing, “You’re telling me you three performed a summoning ritual to play some game where you can die if you lose but get jack squat if you win?”  
  
“It wasn’t real,” Greg defended in frustration. “Or at least, not that one, apparently.”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes and was about to add something, but Sam interrupted to get the topic back to the explanation. “So what about this new one you guys played?” he asked, looking at them expectantly.  
  
Jenny huffed out a small sigh. “They were basically the same, except there’re some weird symbols you had to write on the paper in addition to your name and blood, and instead of ending at 3:33, the game ends at sunrise,” she explained.  
  
“You mean symbols like these,” Dean said, pulling out the strip of paper he’d gotten from Officer Biggs earlier and holding it up.  
  
“Yeah,” Jenny answered. “Where’d you get that?”  
  
“Police evidence,” Dean replied. “FBI, remember?” he added, reaching into his inside jacket pocket and wiggling his badge as illustration.  
  
Sam looked briefly surprised that Dean had the paper with him, and held his hand out to ask for it in order to examine it. While he looked at it, Cas continued questioning the students.  
  
“Can you elaborate more on what the rules were, and the ways which you could tell the… spirit… was approaching?” he asked them.  
  
“Uh, if the room got cold--like really cold, that was one way to tell it was there,” Greg answered.  
  
Sam looked up from the paper, and Cas leaned over slightly to get a look at it while listening.  
  
“What else?” Sam asked.  
  
“Sometimes you might hear voices whispering, or see a figure in the darkness,” Jenny continued. “But the way to tell you were in immediate danger was if your candle went out. That would mean it’s next to you or something, or really close. If you don’t relight it within 10 seconds, that’s how you lose.”  
  
“Yeah and what happens if your lighter or match ain’t working?” Dean asked.  
  
“There’s supposed to be a safe way to forfeit the game,” Greg answered.  
  
Jenny continued for him. “Yeah. If you made a circle of salt around yourself and stayed in it until the game ends, you’d be safe,” she said. The three of them exchanged some more glances as Jenny continued explaining. “As for the rules, you have to use a candle as you walk around and for the summoning. Like, just a lighter doesn’t count. And you can’t use someone else’s blood either. And…,” she trailed off, looking down in thought for a moment before continuing, “Oh, don’t antagonize it, don’t cheat by sleeping, don’t leave the building you summoned it in, and don’t turn on or use any other light source during the game.”  
  
Greg paled slightly, and swallowed. “That’s um-- that’s how I lost,” he said.  
  
“You broke one of the rules?” Dean asked.  
  
“I opened the fridge to get another beer. I--I  wasn’t even thinking about it…” Greg answered.  
  
Jenny looked the side uncomfortably, adding, “Tony and I left the house to call the police, so that’s how we lost.”  
  
“I see,” Sam replied, giving them both a brief sympathetic look before going back to taking notes. “Did any of you see or hear anything before that?”  
  
“All of it. We all thought we heard some noises at some point,” Jenny chimed in, gesturing widely with her arms, “like the whispering the rules talked about. We also thought we saw stuff moving and our candles went out. Tony said the same thing happened to him in the kitchen. We made sure to light them in 10 seconds, but we thought we were just freaking ourselves out and the beers weren’t helping.”  
  
Greg sat up a little, halfway turned toward his friend. “In the kitchen, my candle went out and I saw some shadowy person on the other side of the fridge door when I was closing it, too.” He shivered a little and continued, “It was gone in a second and I thought I was imagining things. But I also thought I lit my candle again in time so I guess I was wrong on both accounts. I didn’t know I already lost.”  
  
“I saw it too--staring out the window at me right after we left the house!” Jenny added.    
  
“So, what exactly is supposed to happen when you lose? Tony explained it a little for us, something like you see your worst fears?” Sam asked.  
  
Greg nodded, but didn’t say anything, so Jenny answered. “Well I mean, there are a few different versions cycling around. Most of them are pretty gruesome. Like… while you’re hallucinating he’ll rip your organs out or pluck your eyes from their sockets and stuff like that.”  
  
“But that didn’t happen,” Cas said.  
  
“No, thank God,” Jenny replied. “But the ones we played didn’t mention anything like that anyway. They just said that you’d hallucinate whatever stuff you’re most afraid of, that you might have terrible nightmares afterward, and that’s it. People probably just added that other stuff on to try and make it sound scarier.”  
  
“Because seeing your worst fears and the possibility of killing your friends isn’t scary enough…” Dean scoffed.  
  
“We didn’t think there’d be a way for us to actually get hurt like that!” Greg defended, raising his voice a little in frustration.  
  
Dean leaned a little forward. “No, you guys got lucky,” he said, “You see after getting a little more info from the police on your statements, I tried looking up any similar incidents that might have been reported while waiting for my partners here. You know how this ended for most of the cases that matched?”  
  
Jenny and Greg were silent.  
  
“In death, worst case,” Dean continued, “And in the best case jail time.”  
  
“Yeah well we didn’t know,” Greg replied, quieter.  
  
“You’re the one who attacked your friends,” Cas said, looking at Greg. “What did you see that made you do that?”    
  
Greg looked down and then away. “It was um… It was really stupid, actually. I mean do you really need to know?” he replied.  
  
“It could help us get something of an idea of how it led to this,” Sam said.  
  
Greg sighed. “I… I know it’s… it’s going to sound really stupid. But I can’t help it,” he started.  
  
“Just tell us, Greg,” Dean replied, slightly impatient.  
  
Sam glanced at Dean briefly before looking back to Greg and saying, “It’s alright. Everyone’s afraid of different things, and some things might seem ridiculous to some people while it scares other people as well.”  
  
“You can tell us,” Cas added.  
  
Greg looked between the three of them before continuing, the hesitation still evident in his voice. “They were… I mean, I thought they were… um… c-clowns…” he finally said, swallowing after finishing his sentence.  
  
Sam thinned his lips at hearing that mentioned, and his eyes took on a somewhat faraway look for a second. Dean chuckled lightly and patted him on the back. “Well I don’t think you have to worry about it being too crazy a fear because my partner here is terrified of them,” he laughed.  
  
Sam gave him an ungrateful look.  
  
“R-really?” Greg asked, slightly more relieved to hear that an FBI agent could have the same kind of fear.  
  
“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Sam admitted, turning back to face Greg with a look of pity on his face.  
  
“I mean, especially when there were those stories of those people dressed as clowns going around last year…,” Greg continued, mild fear mixing into his tone, “chasing people… walking around their property or just... staring into cameras...sometimes just attacking people out of the blue--”  
  
“Ok I think we’ve heard enough about that,” Sam interrupted, uncomfortable.  
  
Dean looked at Sam with amusement before turning to Jenny and asking her, “And you saw something too, right?”  
  
“Yeah… I thought... I thought there was a UFO in the sky looking for me, and that... aliens were after me… I thought Tony was one of them… That’s why I hid in the bushes,” she answered, blushing slightly and looking to the side.  
  
“Ok,” Dean commented. “Well, thank you both for your answers.” He finished his coffee, and moved to stand.  
  
“Is that all then?” Greg asked, then a little more panicked added, “I’m not--I’m not under arrest again or anything like that, right?”  
  
“No, no--you’re not,” Sam assured him, closing his notebook and putting it back into his pocket, “We just needed some answers for our continuing investigation, that’s all.”    
  
“We understand you didn’t intentionally attack your friend, and that it was a mistake,” Cas added.  
  
“Yeah, a stupid mistake,” Dean chided. “Next time you hear about any supposed ‘games’ like this, maybe think twice before playing it.”  
  
Jenny opened her mouth to say something, probably in defense, but Sam spoke before she could say anything.  
  
“He’s right,” he said, “an anonymous person sends you a link to some game like that, you don’t go and play it. You three should be more careful. Next time you might not be as lucky.”  
  
“Yeah, we’re--I think we’re all done with those games for awhile,” she replied, shuddering slightly.  
  
Dean moved to leave, and as Sam and Cas followed, Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his notebook and pen again. He jotted a phone number down, tore the page out, and handed it to Jenny.  
  
“Call that number if you find things like this again, or find yourself in trouble,” he said, then turned back to follow Dean towards the door.  
  
“Thanks, I guess. We will,” Jenny replied as she and Greg went to escort them out.

* * *

  
  
“Strawberry Mango, Sam? Really?” Dean ribbed, as the waiter left their table after bringing them their food. He looked in distaste at the colorful salad sitting in front of Sam. After finishing the last of the interviews, they were ready to head back to the bunker to further look into the case. But not before having a late lunch. They decided to stop at a small restaurant to discuss what they learned before making the trip home.  
  
Sam paused, fork in hand. “What?” he defended, “I had a bacon cheeseburger yesterday. I’m being good today.”  
  
“Oh you’re ‘being good today’,” Dean mocked, eyebrows raised.  
  
Sam rolled his eyes. “Shut up and eat your own food instead of commenting on mine,” he said.  
  
For a moment Dean seemed to consider continuing the teasing, but then he simply shrugged and picked his burger up to take a bite.  
  
“So what do we have so far for ideas about this thing?” Sam said through a mouthful of greens.  
  
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Cas answered, having ignored the previous banter in favor of going over the details they had. “We already can be sure it’s not a demon, because there was no sulphur, and usually rituals to summon them don’t go as what we heard described. There were also those symbols...”  
  
“Yeah, they looked kinda familiar,” Sam mused, and then put his fork down. “Hey Dean, can I get another look at them?”  
  
Dean wiped a hand on his jeans before pulling out the slip of paper and handing it over to his brother. “Could it be some kind of ghost?” Dean suggested. “Some of what they mentioned sounded like it could fit. You got the temp drop, the shadowy figures, the salt circle…”  
  
“It’s  possible,” Cas said, though with some hesitation.  
  
Sam continued to study the paper, his brows drawn together in some frustration as he tried to remember where he saw them.  
  
“Well we know that ghosts can be summoned and used as attack dogs. I mean it’s rare, and usually involves some pretty strong magic, but it’s possible,” Dean continued.  
  
Sam looked up briefly toward Dean. “Yeah, and what they were doing was effectively blood magic,” he said.  
  
“Yeah,” Dean agreed.  
  
Sam held the paper out towards Cas. “Did you recognize these at all when you saw them?” he asked.  
  
Cas took it and glanced at it briefly before handing it back. “Yes,” he answered. “They’re Celtic.”  
  
At that, Sam’s eyes brightened a little in recognition. “Then I think I might know where I saw them,” he said. “Back in the bunker’s library somewhere.”  
  
“Good,” Dean said around another bite of his burger, “that means you won’t need any help with the research when we get back.”

* * *

  
  
They arrived back at the bunker in the late evening, just a few hours before midnight. The discussion of whether they should try and fight the thing that night or the next came up.  Sam was pretty sure he could find the book he saw with the Celtic runes with enough time for them to prepare for the ritual, and he was right. Just an hour after they got back, probably less, he had the book open in front of him on one of the library’s tables, with only a few small stacks of other books around him, most of which he hadn’t even looked through yet before he had found the right one. Cas and Dean were sitting nearby watching some show on Dean’s laptop. Sam would have been more annoyed at Dean’s comment back at the restaurant, but he was right. It did take him a little longer than expected, but he didn’t need any help finding it.  
  
“Found it, I think,” he told them as he skimmed over a few more paragraphs quickly. “Yeah, this is definitely the right one.”  
  
“So what are we dealing with then?” Dean asked, pausing the show as he and Cas looked over toward Sam.

Sam looked at Dean, an apologetic but amused look on his face. “Something you’re pretty familiar with,” he said.  
  
Dean looked at Sam waiting for him to elaborate. After a second and it still seemed he was supposed to know what that meant, he looked around the room and waved a hand toward Sam and asked, “And that is…?”  
  
“Fairies.”  
  
“Oh son of a--”  
  
“Sorry Dean,” Sam said. “The runes on that paper are part of some really old summoning ritual.”

“That does make sense,” Cas interjected. “There are some types of fairy which feed on fear and even revel in it.”  
  
“Yeah, like here,” Sam added, holding up the book and pointing to a spot on the page, “it talks about a type of dark fairy called an unseelie, which does pretty much what Cas just said.” He put the book back down and flipped to a page near the beginning, and briefly held it toward them so they could see it. “And this page talks about lighting candles to summon a fairy as well,” he said.  
  
“I’d considered the possibility of the creature being a fairy earlier,” Cas admitted, “when I first saw the runes. They didn’t mention anything specific, but it didn’t look like something used just to summon a ghost. However, the other information we had didn’t entirely match either.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Dean asked, turning to look at him in confusion.  
  
“The circle of salt would certainly slow it down, but it wouldn’t keep someone safe from the fairy, unless the circle was part of the game…” Cas trailed off. He stood up and walked over to where Sam was sitting, and picked up the book, flipping through it. “Fairies are mischievous but will generally honor agreements.”  
  
“And the game is kind of like an agreement,” Sam figured.  
  
“Yes,” Cas continued, “which is why breaking the rules causes one to lose instantly. But what I don’t understand is why this one would choose to include a rule which makes the player spill salt on the floor, given their compulsive need to count it.”  
  
Dean shrugged halfheartedly. “I don’t know, if it is a fairy, maybe someone just got lucky and the rules stuck ever since. Like, maybe someone thought it was a ghost and made a salt circle, and it happened to take the fairy all night to count it,” he offered.  
  
“The fairy I went up against last time seemed to really hate that I used that against him,” Sam recollected, looking more unsure. “If that was the case, then why wouldn’t it be part of the rules of the game that you can’t use it? Fairies aren’t held back by whether it’s day or night, so why not just go after the players once they’ve finished counting?”  
  
Cas closed the book and placed it onto the table. “I was hoping to find some observation about that in this book, but it didn’t mention anything we don’t already know.”  
  
“And we’re sure this is a fairy?” Dean asked.  
  
“Like Cas said, the runes probably don’t have anything to do with ghosts, and were in this book,” Sam replied, gesturing toward it.  
  
“So we just play the game, except instead of running from the thing we kill it?” Dean asked again.  
  
“We can’t just send it back or it’ll keep returning every time it’s summoned,” Sam said.  
  
“Iron hurts them…” Dean mused, “and silver can kill them, right?”  
  
“It should,” Cas answered, “Otherwise I can, or an angel blade.”  
  
“Wait a minute,” Sam stepped in, “The one I fought last time told me that fairy magic makes them stronger than an angel because it comes from their own realm.”  
  
Dean sat up a little straighter and more alert, turning toward Cas, and added, “Yeah, and you’re not exactly fully powered up either.”  
  
Cas rolled his eyes. “Fairies can be prideful and arrogant creatures,” he attested with a sigh, “their magic is different, but not more powerful. Even without the full extent of my abilities I’ll be able to kill it. Even so, an angel blade should work fine.”  
  
“Is it even possible for you to be affected by its magic then?” Sam asked. “Like, could it make you see things?”  
  
“It’s possible,” Cas replied, “but it won’t work as easily on me. In fact it may be wise to simply let me handle it.”  
  
“No way,” Dean argued, standing up from his chair, “If anyone’s doing this alone, it should be me. The bastards can’t hide from me anymore anyway.”  
  
Sam stood up as well. “Dean, no one’s doing this alone,” he said sternly, looking pointedly at him, and Cas as well. “We’re doing this as a team.”  
  
“And what if it decides it doesn’t like us trying to kill it? That kind of counts as provoking it, I’d think. So what if it makes us fight each other?” Dean countered, his expression serious.  
  
“Then… we… try and keep a cool head. I mean it shows us what we’re afraid of right? So if I see any-- any clowns, or whatever else, we know it’s not real,” Sam tried. “Either way, we at least need Cas in case the silver only makes it angry, and at that point three against one is better than two anyway. And actually--we can just start with the angel blades to guarantee we kill it.”  
  
  
Dean’s hand tightened slightly on the edge of the table. He shook his head, intending to protest more, but he couldn’t come up with a good reason that he should be the only one to take on the fairy. “I don’t like it,” he said instead.  
  
“It’ll be fine, Dean,” Cas tried to reassure him. “You’ll be able to see it even if it tries to hide itself, and while I’m sure it won’t be able to hide itself from me, I’ll at least be able to sense it. We can relay its location to Sam. We’ll stay together and play by its rules until we find it.”  
  
“Alright, fine,” Dean sighed.  
  
“Great,” Sam said, “let’s go get the stuff we need and get started.”  
  
“Wait--” Dean interrupted, “Let’s leave the blades somewhere other than where we summon it, and we can make our way over there during the game. If we summon it and it sees our weapons, who’s to say it won’t curse us right then and there?”  
  
“...Good point,” Sam agreed. “We should try to pick a location that’s close to where we are though.”  
  
“The kitchen and archives are close to your room and Dean’s respectively,” Cas noted.  
  
“So we all take the three doors closest to the kitchen--or the archives--and start there,” Dean determined. He tensed at the hesitation coming from his brother.  
  
Sam had his hand to his chin. “I don’t know…” he said, “Maybe we shouldn’t put all our gathered weapons in one room. If it appears on the wrong side of us, that’d only make it harder for us to get to them. It might be best if we used our own rooms to summon it and then stashed them in the room closest to us. In fact, I don’t see why we don’t just use the bedroom closest to us.”  
  
Dean looked to Cas, hoping he would side with him on the grounds that starting from their own rooms would be too similar to splitting up. Unfortunately, that’s not what happened.  
  
“Sam is right, Dean,” Cas said. “I don’t need a weapon, so I’ll take the--”  
  
“We’d be splitting up,” Dean interrupted, firmly arguing over him. “Which makes it harder for us to stay together, and harder for us to make sure we don’t freakin’ accidentally kill each other!”  
  
A look of impatience crossed Cas’ face at Dean’s stubbornness. He looked Dean directly in the eye. “I’ll take a room halfway between yours and Sam’s,” he continued, his tone leaving no room for further question, “so that the distance required for the three of us to meet is shortened.”  
  
“I don’t like having to start off apart either Dean, but it’s a better plan,” Sam said.  
  
“Damn it,” Dean complained, but made no further argument.

* * *

  
  
“Why the hell does this want our full name anyway? You’d think the blood would be enough,” Dean griped as the three of them sat at the table in the kitchen, writing out their names and the runes onto their own slips of paper.  
  
“It’s why we have middle names in the first place,” Sam answered easily. “Knowing a person’s full name allowed you to cast spells and bewitch them and stuff, so people started giving their kids a middle name. That way, your actual full name was hidden and you couldn’t be cursed as easily.” He pricked his fingertip with a knife and touched it to his paper.  
  
Dean stared at him. “You know, I’m not even surprised that you know that,” he said, before pricking his own finger and wiping the blood onto his paper.  
  
Cas entered the room holding three angel blades. He placed one on the counter near Sam, then placed the other two near Dean. “Keep mine with yours in the archives, Dean,” he said, sitting down to make his own slip of paper.  
  
Dean gave them an uneasy look. “I think I’m gonna start with the silver, thanks,” he said.  
  
Sam opened his mouth to question it, but closed it again hesitantly. After a moment, he stood up and headed over to a drawer filled with silver knives. “Yeah, actually, me too,” he agreed. “Worst case happens, I don’t want to have something on me capable of killing angels.”  
  
“I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine,” Cas said. “I’ll remind you that I have successfully disarmed and fought other angels. Neither of you should pose any threat to me.”  
  
“Gee, thanks Cas,” Dean grumbled, though he relaxed more as he waited for Cas to finish adding his blood to his paper.  
  
Cas gave him a half smile, which Dean made an attempt to return.  
  
“We ready then?” Sam asked, placing a silver knife next to Dean.

* * *

  
  
Once every light had been shut off, including the emergency lights, Sam, Dean and Cas lit their candles. The soft glow filled the room around them, casting tall shadows where the light reached the walls. They each made their way to the doors they planned to use.  
  
Dean stood uncertainly outside his own bedroom door, unable to see the light from Cas or Sam’s candles. He checked his watch in his own dim light. It was 11:59, just one minute before they needed to begin. He watched the numbers, waiting for them to change, and as soon as it was midnight he  placed the slip of paper onto the floor in front of him and began knocking on the door. After the final knock, he blew out his candle,  opened the door, and closed it again. He couldn’t help the chill that ran down his spine as he picked up his candle and relit it.  
  
He looked around, half expecting to see the fairy standing somewhere, but he was alone. He took a step in the direction of Cas and Sam, before turning and making his way toward the archives to retrieve the weapons. He arrived to the room safely, not having encountered anything, which made him question whether the summoning even worked. Warily, he picked up the angel blade and tucked it into his belt. He picked the silver up and fitted it into the side of his jeans. Still nothing. He glanced around the room and picked up the second angel blade. He turned toward the door leading back to the bedrooms and his heart nearly jumped into his chest as he spotted a dark figure lurking in the entrance.  
  
“I uh, don’t suppose you’ll let me through,” Dean tried, half joking.    
  
The figure stood still, not answering.  
  
“So that’s a no,” he guessed.  
  
The figure remained quiet. Dean debated whether it would be a good idea to try and attack it right then. He took a step towards it and froze. If it went wrong and he missed, he’d risk getting put under the fairy’s spell. He stepped backwards again. At least he had his eyes on it now.  
  
“Can’t hide from me,” Dean muttered. As soon as the words left his mouth, his candle flame went out and darkness suddenly blanketed him on all sides.  
  
“Shit!” he exclaimed quietly, as he fumbled with the blade and his lighter. He managed to light the candle again fairly easily. He looked up. The shadowy figure of the fairy was only about five feet from him. He jumped back another foot, nearly dropping his candle as he did.  
  
“ _Fuck!_ ”  
  
After a few seconds, once his breathing calmed more, he carefully edged his way around it and back to the hallway he needed to be heading down.  
  
“Guess I get to go this way after all,” he said, tossing it a brief smirk. He walked backward down the hall until the figure was out of sight, and then turned around and picked his pace up into a light jog toward Cas, and hopefully by now Sam as well.  
  
  
  
  
  
“Dean!” he heard Sam quietly call out as he rounded the corner. The sight of him and Cas lit by their candles was a welcome one.  
  
“Sam! Cas!” Dean called out in reply. When he reached them, he handed the other angel blade to Cas, who hid it away and gave him a brief thank you. The shadows hung more heavily on his face than they did Sam’s.  
  
Sam handed Dean a canister of salt that he had gotten from the kitchen. “Just in case,” he said. “Did you run into anything on your side?”  
  
“You could say that,” Dean answered. He tucked the canister under his arm. “Nothing happened all the way up until the archives. Then I turned to head back here only to find the thing blocking the doorway.”  
  
“So you saw it,” Cas said.  
  
“Did you get a good look at it?” Sam asked.  
  
“No… it was just… like they said, some vague shadowy figure. Gotta say though, this one has a thing for theatrics,” Dean answered.  
  
Sam made a face. “Like, how?”  
  
“The whole time, it just stood there watching me. Didn’t move, didn’t talk. I even tried making some polite conversation and the bastard ignored it,” Dean replied. “Then my candle went out, and when I lit it back up the thing was only a few feet from me like one of those creepy statues from that show.”  
  
“Huh, I thought fairies were more talkative,” Sam replied.  
  
“Me too.”  
  
“We should move,” Cas interjected as the temperature suddenly dropped. “This hallway limits our movements.”  
  
“Yeah,” Dean agreed.  
  
The three of them made their way through the bunker’s dormitory hallways, headed for the first open room they came across. The hallways were restrictive, and a solid wall of black was all that there was outside the reach of the candlelight.  
  
“Anyone else gettin’ the creeps?” Dean asked, his voice unsure.  
  
“Yeah-- a little, actually,” Sam answered in mild surprise. “...Do you think it’s because we’re hunting something in the bunker in complete darkness?”  
  
“The fairy is emitting a frequency which causes a sense unrest and dread in humans,” Cas supplied. “I imagine it’s to make your fear more enjoyable.”  
  
“Well that’s just great,” Dean muttered as they rounded another corner. “Another fear spell…”  
  
Sam looked curiously toward Cas. “Are you affected at all?” he asked.  
  
“No,” Cas answered tersely, “It’s weak.”  
  
Quiet whispering began from somewhere in front or behind them, they couldn’t tell. They stopped for a moment to listen, trying and failing to discern the source.  
  
“Maybe you pissed it off,” Dean joked.  
  
Sam scrunched his face. “Did I hear something about a pentagram…?” he asked.  
  
“I don’t know, I thought I heard something about a lake, or corn, or somethin’,” Dean said.  
  
“It’s nonsense,” Cas told them, “It’s just trying to scare you. I think you were right that I struck a nerve by calling its magic weak.”  
  
Suddenly the kitchen loomed dimly in front of them, the candlelight bouncing off of the closest reflective surfaces as they got closer. The whispering stopped. They paused in the entrance, looking around. The temperature dropped and their candles flickered, and before they could comment the lights went out.  
  
“Should we fight in here?” Sam asked as he fumbled with his lighter, the darkness somehow clouding any sense of time and making each action seem to take longer.  
  
Cas managed to light his first. “There doesn’t seem to be as much room as we thought,” he answered.  
  
“Guess that’s a no on the kitchen then,” Dean said, as light flooded his face again.  
  
“Well, what about the war room?” Sam suggested. “The table is kinda there, but there’s that space between it and the stairs.”  
  
Cas and Dean pondered it for a moment.  
  
“Could work,” Dean said, shrugging. A chill ran down his spine. “I think we should get a move on though.”  
  
“That might be best,” Cas agreed. “The war room may be a good choice as well.”  
  
The walk to the war room was uneventful. As they entered it, their shadows cast long lines over the map table in the center. They could just see the edge of the stairway, and the balcony loomed ominously above. The three of them waited a moment to see if anything would happen like it had when they entered the kitchen.  
  
After a few moments and not so much as a flicker of their candles, Sam spoke up.  
  
“I guess we could take a seat and wait…?” he asked awkwardly.  
  
They moved with caution towards the chairs surrounding the table. They paused at the seats, hesitant, but when still  nothing happened they set their candles down, pulled them out and sat. The next few minutes were tense as they expected the fairy to surprise them, but after some time the feeling waned into boredom.  
  
“People do this for fun?” Dean complained.  
  
“Imagine the one where nothing actually happens,” Sam added, rubbing his eyes. It had been less than an hour, but now sitting in the dark doing nothing was starting to make him a bit drowsy.  
  
“It’s no longer creating the sound from earlier,” Cas noted. He had his fingers laced together and his chin resting on his hands.  
  
“So what-- do we just sit here on our asses waiting for it? What if it doesn’t show?” Dean griped.  
  
“Maybe it overheard our plan and is just... riding the night out…” Sam suggested.  
  
“That’s possible,” Cas said, glancing into the library as if the fairy might be hiding somewhere in it, listening to them even then.    
  
Dean rubbed his hands in his hair. “Well pissing it off seemed to work last time, and I’m thinking it’d be the most satisfying option right now,” he said.  
  
“Yeah but Dean, the rules said specifically not to provoke it,” Sam argued, his arm out to the side.  
  
“But Sam,” Dean groaned, “what if waiting it out doesn’t work, and it just doesn’t come back to Dodge after getting out?”  
  
Sam opened his mouth to counter, but was interrupted by the sound of Cas’ chair scraping the floor as he stood abruptly, readying his weapon.  
  
“Sam-- Dean--” he alerted them, now facing the doorway.  
  
Upon seeing where Cas’ attention was, the both of them immediately followed suit, grabbing their own weapons and standing to face the figure lurking in the doorway to the library.  
  
“Told you so,” Dean said under his breath to Sam.  
  
“Shut up Dean,” Sam replied. He glanced toward Cas and asked, “What did you see, Cas?”  
  
Dean turned to look at Sam and gestured at the figure. “You don’t--,” he started, before memory came back to him, “Oh right, of course you don’t.” He turned back to face their guest and addressed it with his usual  bravado.  
  
“And what kind of time do you call this?” he said, raising his arms to the side accusingly.  
  
The figure simply stood there.  
  
“Dean, I don’t think it came here to talk,” Cas said. He picked up his candle in his other hand and started walking towards it, but once he was a few steps closer it retreated further into the shadows, the candlelight never reaching it enough to illuminate its features.  
  
Dean rolled his eyes, and him and Sam grabbed their candles and walked to where Cas stood.  
  
Once there, the fairy retreated further back until it was no longer visible.  
  
“Is it still…?” Sam asked.  
  
“It’s still there,” Cas answered, “I don’t need the candlelight to see it. I brought it to comply with the rules.”  
  
Sam sheathed his weapon and pulled out his can of salt. “You know, last time I faced a fairy, this stuff was the most helpful,” he mused, keeping his voice low in hopes the fairy wouldn’t hear him. “What if we just... poured it out, and attacked while the fairy counts it?”  
  
They considered it for a moment, and then Dean shrugged. “Might as well try,” he said.  
  
“It’s too late,” Cas told them. He sighed in annoyance, “It left. So we can either follow it, or continue waiting for it in this--”  
  
He stopped, interrupted when a strong chill filled the air and all three of their candles went out. They spun around on instinct, but nothing was behind them. A second of confusion went by before they fumbled frantically to get their lighters out and relight their candles. As soon as they were lit, the room warmed again.  
  
“That was 10 seconds right?” Dean asked, a small amount of panic still in his voice.  
  
“It was within 10 seconds, yes,” Cas assured them.  
  
Sam breathed a short sigh of relief. “I thought the fairy was in the library. So what the hell was that?” he asked, still wary of the situation. “Can all fairies fly?”  
  
Cas looked around the room, perturbed. “Whatever it was is no longer in the room,” he said, “And yes--many can, but this was not the same fairy.”    
  
“So what, there are two?” Dean asked.  
  
“It’s possible,” Cas replied. “I didn’t check the balcony. It may have come from there and escaped before I could see it.”  
  
Dean scowled. “Freakin fairies…” he growled.  
  
“So-- if there are two, maybe it’d be better to move somewhere with less room to escape,” Sam suggested.  
  
“The bedrooms should be small enough spaces,” Cas supplied, “and they’ll reduce their ability to surprise us.”  
  
“So basically back to where we started,” Dean complained. “Great. Let’s go.”  
  
They took their supplies and headed back to the dormitory halls. As before, on their walk to the war room, the trip to the bedrooms was uneventful. They stood outside the first two rooms debating what to do next.  
  
“So now I guess we wait again,” Sam said. “Should we all stay in one room, or…?”  
  
“We’re definitely all staying in one room,” Dean replied. “We’re supposed to be outnumbering _them_ . Not the other way ‘round, and now that we know there’re two of ‘em...”  
  
“Reducing our numbers at first might lure them out faster,” Cas suggested.  
  
Dean chewed his lip. “Well they eat fear or whatever, right? Unless they want to go hungry tonight, they gotta come at us at some point, right?” he said.  
  
Cas turned to face Dean. “So if we all wait in a single room, how do you propose we--”  
  
“Hey, what if we just-- Oh, sorry Cas,” Sam interrupted, “but what if we just poured salt everywhere. I mean, at some point they’ll find it and have to count it, won’t they? We could just… I don’t know, walk along the trails or something and see if we caught one.”  
  
“That’s… potentially not a bad plan,” Cas said, considering it.  
  
Dean considered it as well.  
  
“However, it could also be considered ‘against the rules’,” Cas continued.  
  
Sam sighed.  
  
“In which case we get screwed anyway, if not by one then by the other,” Dean added, “Especially since we’d run out of salt before we could cover a large enough area.”  
  
“Then… we’ll just… hold onto it until we need it,” Sam relented.  
  
Dean walked over to a door and opened it. He held the candle in the doorway and leaned in, looking around. “Yeah, so let’s all wait in one room for now and see what happens,” Dean said. He knew they couldn’t wait in there all night, but it seemed anything they discussed was being overheard. He turned and looked at Cas and winked, then looked around the room,  and continued, “And we’re going to see if they’re too chicken shit to come after us in here.”  
  
Cas sighed and walked past Dean into the room. “Fine,” he said, “But we need to be careful not to waste all our time waiting.”  
  
Dean gave him a quick two-fingered salute to show he understood.  
  
Sam entered the room after Cas, and shot Dean a brief wink as well to show he caught the first one. He walked past the both of them and sat on the bed, placing his candle on the end table next to it. He leaned back, resting against the headboard and propping his feet up. Dean walked to the other side and placed his candle on the shelf above the headboard and took a seat as well. Cas placed his candle next to Sam’s, but opted to remain standing.  
  
An hour passed, and there was no sign of the fairies.  
  
“We got all night,” Dean called out.  
  
His candle flickered.  
  
“Oh ho,” he chuckled, looking over at the recovering flame. “That’s all?”  
  
The room chilled, causing Sam to shiver. Still though, nothing else happened.  
  
“They’re unsure,” Cas noted.  
  
“Yeah, or their just afraid,” Dean taunted, “Unlike us. Let’s see if they ever get the guts to come in here after us.”  
  
Another hour passed, but the fairies weren’t falling for it. Sam, now pacing aimlessly near one of the corners of the room, walked over to his candle and picked it up.  
  
“What are you doing?” Dean asked, sitting up straighter from where he sat.  
  
“Going to get more salt,” Sam said matter-of-factly. “We’re still playing their game, right? Well, just getting more salt isn’t really against the rules, is it? And if I keep the candle lit, I should be fine.” He winked at his brother,  and headed toward the door, but Dean grabbed his arm.  
  
Sam looked at him in confusion. He was really hoping Dean would trust him and just let him go, especially since it looked like nonverbal cues were the only way they could really communicate right now.  
  
“I’ll be fine, Dean,” he insisted, lowering his head just slightly while keeping his eyes on Dean’s.  
  
Dean bit his lip, and then sighed, giving up. “Just don’t take too long,” he said. It helped that the fairies weren’t actively encouraging fearful emotions.  
  
With just a nod, Sam left the room and headed towards the kitchen. He was almost expecting the fairies to attack immediately, but it seemed like they really were still playing by the rules, or ‘honoring their agreement’ as Cas explained earlier, and he made it to the kitchen after a few minutes with nothing more than a cold spot and mild apprehension. He walked carefully along the counters, looking for the cabinet where a few extra canisters of salt were stored. Carrying anything larger or heavier, like the bags of rock salt, seemed like a bad idea. Once he found it, he set his candle carefully onto the countertop and opened the door, grabbing a few canisters of the salt and tucking them under his arm.  
  
Suddenly, the air chilled and he stood up. He cautiously looked to either side, trying to squint into the darkness, but nothing was there as far as he could tell, so he turned around to look behind him. There stood one of the fairies, just a dark figure at the edge of his candle’s range of light. Sam considered the option of just grabbing his things and continuing on back to the bedroom where Dean and Cas were waiting for him, but another idea crossed his mind.  
  
Carefully, keeping an eye on the fairy in front of him, he put a few of the containers of salt onto the counter behind him keeping the one he’d brought with in his hand. He opened it slowly at first, warily monitoring the figure standing in front of him for any reaction, and then quickly, and with a smirk on his his face, he tipped the canister over and let the salt pour out.  
  
The fairy remained still, unaffected by the granules now forming a small half-circle around Sam where he was pouring it it out, and Sam’s smirk faltered. He swallowed, turning the canister right side up again, and concerned confusion crossed his face. Laughing nervously, he put the canister back onto the counter behind him.  
  
“...Guess that leprechaun wasn’t so right about that working,” he said, and in a swift and smooth motion pulled out his silver knife and leaped forward in attack. The figure stood there motionless, allowing for a direct hit. A crackling sound filled the air, and an almost electrical sensation surrounded his hand as it passed through what should have been a corporeal form.  
  
Sam’s eyes widened.  
  
“Oh shit,” he said in a breath.  
  
His candle went out.

* * *

  
  
“Come on Sam,” Dean muttered.  
  
“I’m sure he’s fine, Dean,” Cas tried to assure him.  
  
Now Dean was the one pacing impatiently around the room. “He should have been back a few minutes ago,” he worried.  
  
Cas walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to get him to stop. Dean looked over at him, worry clear in his eyes, so Cas tried to return that look with one of reassurance. It seemed like it almost worked, but then Dean stepped away from him.  
  
“We’re going after him,” he said, moving to get his candle off the shelf above the bed.  
  
Cas followed him, grabbing his own candle as well. He also grabbed the canister of salt Dean left behind in his hurry. Thankfully it seemed the fairies were intent on trying to win their game, so there wasn’t much concern about them fleeing anymore. And it also seemed as if they needed to be in closer range to cast any spells, as Dean had done more than enough provoking to warrant an instant game over if that hadn’t been the case. So overall, the three of them had those as an advantage. The only problem was that the fairies seemed to be evading them and trying to lure them out just as they had been trying to lure the fairies into the room with them. And so far, that seemed to be working.  
  
The both of them headed towards the kitchen, hoping to encounter Sam on his way back. Unfortunately all they found were halls without Sam anywhere to be seen, and a kitchen equally empty.  
  
“Where the fuck…?” Dean trailed off as Cas moved toward where Sam had apparently left the extra salt he had set out to get.  
  
“Dean, over here,” he called out.  
  
Dean moved toward where Cas was, craning his neck in an attempt to see anything that might be over there before he reached it. He stopped next to Cas, looking down at the half circle of salt.  He looked up sharply, now casting glances around the room.  
  
“This is why I didn’t want us splitting up, Sammy…” he muttered.  
  
“I think we can assume he escaped,” Cas said, looking around the room as well and then over at Dean, “But what I find strange is that the salt doesn’t seem to have worked…”    
  
Dean sighed and held his hand to his forehead for a moment before bringing it back down to his chin.  
  
“We should find him, make sure he’s ok and not in trouble,” he finally said.  
  
Cas debated arguing that, but he also wanted to make sure Sam was alright. He was capable, but two dark fairies wasn’t anything to take too lightly. And as such, he wanted Dean to be more cautious.  
  
“Well it doesn’t appear that the salt worked, so that suggests they’re very powerful” he warned, as he placed the canister he was carrying onto the counter next to the others Sam had left out. When he turned around though, Dean was already heading toward the other exit.  
  
“Dean!” Cas impatiently called after him.  
  
Dean turned around, impatient as well. “Cas, Sam could be in trouble,” he insisted.  
  
Cas started toward Dean. “All the reason for us to be more careful,” he insisted back. “For all we know Dean, these may not even be fairies after all, not if the salt didn’t work.”  
  
“Yeah then what are they Cas? What else could they be? You saw them yourself and said they’re definitely fairies,” Dean argued.  
  
“I saw _one_ of them and said that one was definitely a fairy. I never saw the other one,” Cas stated, agitation in his voice.  
  
He was only a few feet away from Dean looking hard into his eyes, filled with an impatient understanding. But then they widened, and he stopped.  
  
“Cas behind you,” Dean said, rushing the words and drawing his knife.  
  
The room chilled and Cas turned around but as he did, their candle lights went out.  
  
“Cas!” he heard Dean shout, followed by “stupid fucking candles!” and a string of profanity as he presumably dug around for his lighter.  
  
“I’m alright Dean,” he answered, reaching into his pocket for his own lighter as he looked in front of him.  
  
Just a few feet away stood the figure, and he paused in his actions as he saw it.  
  
“Dean it’s not a fairy but I know what it is,” he called, turning his head slightly over his shoulder.  
  
“Shit! I dropped it!” Dean exclaimed.  
  
Cas moved over to him with his lighter already out and bent down to where Dean was on the ground, feeling around for his own, and after dropping his own candle, grabbed Dean’s candle from his hand, lighting it himself. The chill left the air.  
  
“Cas! What are you doing?!” Dean shouted, now scrambling to pick up Cas’ candle where it fell and place it back into the holder.  
  
He held it out toward Cas who quickly lit it as well. As the light filled the area, he saw a grim look on Cas’ face.

“Cas?” Dean asked, reaching for him and placing his hand on his arm. He glanced over to where the figure had been, and saw it was gone. “Cas are you ok?”  
  
Cas looked up at him for a second, then back down, before finally looking back up again.  
  
“Dean,  do you feel anything? Anything different?” he asked.  
  
Dean’s brows drew together. “Yeah Cas, I feel fine,” he answered. “What about you? What’s with the dour face all of a sudden?”  
  
Cas closed his eyes and sighed, partly in relief but not without some apprehension behind it.  
  
“That was longer than ten seconds, Dean,” he replied, opening his eyes again and letting them fill with concern.  
  
Dean just stared at him.  
  
“What do you mean?” he asked, his grip on Cas’ arm tightening.  
  
“I mean, there’s a chance the fairies were able to cast the hallucination magic,  
Cas replied, ”which is why I needed to make sure you were alright.”  
  
“But… they didn’t,” Dean said, though he couldn’t help the uncertainty that crept into his voice. “Because we aren’t hallucinating anything… are we?”  
  
“No we’re not, or at least, not yet,” Cas sighed.  
  
Dean sat fully on the floor now, one leg bent in front of him and the other leg stretched out. He wiped his hand down his face.  
  
“Well… what did you mean when you said it wasn’t a fairy?” he asked. “If it’s not, what was it?”  
  
“I think it’s a ghost,” Cas answered, “but one that’s been cursed.”  
  
“Fairies can do that?” Dean asked, not really as surprised as what his voice portrayed.  
  
“If you try to make a deal with them, or ask for favors, that’s usually what happens,” Cas explained with some distaste.  
  
Dean stood up, and offered his hand to help Cas up as well. “How can you tell it’s been cursed?” he asked.  
  
Taking his hand and standing as well, Cas answered, “There was an aura of fairy magic around him. My guess would be that he got involved with this fairy somehow and as a result, his soul is being used as a weapon to harvest more fear for it to feed on.”  
  
“So what-- it uses the soul it cursed to help scare the shit out of people while it sits in the background chowin’ down?” Dean asked.  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
Cas walked back over toward where he placed the salt canister, with Dean following, and picked two of them up. He handed one to Dean, keeping the other for himself.  
  
“These will probably be useful after all,” he said.  
  
Dean just nodded as they walked back toward the hall Sam had likely gone down.  
  
“Let’s just hope Sam’s ok and figured it out too,” Dean added.  
  
They walked along the hallway for some time, longer than either of them remembered the hallway to be. Dean was just about to comment on it, when Cas stopped in front of him, holding his candle out in front of them for Dean to see as well.  
  
They were back in the kitchen.  
  
The familiar dread and rising panic that had been casually coming and going the whole night settled itself at the bottom of Dean’s stomach again.  
  
“Cas, why are we in the kitchen again?” he asked.  
  
Cas didn’t answer, but instead walked further into the kitchen, looking around it in confusion.  
  
“Cas--”  
  
“We’re not,” he finally replied, interrupting Dean. “There’s no possible way for us to have wound up in this room again while walking in the direction we were…”  
  
Dean’s heart started racing faster.  
  
“Dean ignore whatever you’re feeling right now,” Cas suddenly added, moving back toward Dean.  
  
Dean backed away from him. “We did get hit with that spell didn’t we?” he guessed, eyes wide.  
  
“It would appear so, but Dean--” Cas tried, attempting to move closer to Dean again and frowning as Dean backed away, “Dean, what you’re feeling is just an effect of the spell. You have to ignore it.”  
  
“Cas if we’re affected, what if I try to kill you? What if I try to kill Sam?” Dean rushed out, “You know, what if we end up attacking each other like those kids?”  
  
Cas reached out toward Dean, grabbing his shoulder to try and keep him from moving away, but Dean shook his hand off. So instead, he tried backing up.  
  
“We need to stay together,” he tried to say calmly.  
  
Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Ok,” he said, “Ok.” He opened them again, but this time, his eyes widened when he looked at Cas, seeing the dark figure there instead.  
  
Reflexively, he drew his knife, but it was heavier than expected, and when he looked down at it, he saw it was the angel blade. His hand holding it started shaking, and he looked back up to see Cas standing there, looking hurt and confused. A thin line of red stretched across his cheek, blood slowly spreading downward from it in places. Dean dropped the blade, and it clattered loudly as it hit the floor. He didn’t understand how Cas got hurt. Dean hadn’t moved… had he?  
  
“Cas, I-- I’m sorry,” he choked out. He turned and ran back down the hallway, heading back toward where he hoped the actual kitchen was, not trusting himself around Cas or Sam anymore.  
  
“Dean!” Cas called after him, but he kept running. After he got back to the real kitchen--not that he could probably tell anymore--he paused to take a look behind him. Cas hadn’t followed him. He breathed a sigh of relief and ran a hand through his hair. He tightened a grip on the canister tucked under his arm. He almost had his nerves back when suddenly a startled yell came from somewhere in the halls leading to the bedrooms, startling Dean in turn. It sounded like Sam’s voice, so he instinctively started to run in the direction it was coming from before hesitating and stopping. He didn’t know that was actually Sam’s voice he heard. Even if it was, he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to help, or if he’d just make things worse. He stood there, torn between whether he should avoid it or go make sure Sam was ok, when he heard it call out again.  
  
“Dean! Cas!”  
  
Not wasting more time, he ran in the direction of Sam’s voice, adrenaline coursing through his veins.  
  
“Sam!” he called out.  
  
He reached the hall with the first bedrooms in it and stopped when he saw Sam’s leg on the floor, the candlelight just reaching it.  
  
“S-sam--”  
  
He was cut off by a shrill sort of laughter. He looked up and saw the figure of the fairy leaning casually against the wall just out of the range of the light. In the back of Dean’s mind he told himself it wasn’t real. He tried to take a deep breath, but it came in shakily and went out rough. The fairy picked something long off the floor and tossed it at Dean, and it landed at his feet with a soft thud. Dean looked down and immediately shut his eyes at the sight of Sam’s arm severed from his body, blood still pooling a little around it where it was torn.  
  
“The best part is he thought it was you,” the fairy chirped happily, causing Dean to snap his head up and level a glare full of hatred at it, “until he turned around and saw a terrifying clown instead, but by then there was nothing he could do except--”  
  
It was cut off as Dean charged forward, pulling out his knife and lunging at it. All he managed to see was the flash of its eyes in his light, twinkling with delight, before it vanished back into the darkness. Dean chased after it for just a few feet, but slipped on something. He looked down, seeing blood, and froze. He looked back up again in the direction where the fairy was, before realizing it was already gone. He wiped at his eyes and took a deep breath and looked back down at where Sam’s body had been. When he saw it was still there, how torn it was and how much blood was spread around it, a lump started forming in his throat.  
  
“It’s not real,” he reminded himself, though his voice came out strangled. He swallowed thickly and took a half step toward it, looking at the expression of shock frozen on his face.  
  
Dean closed his eyes tightly and opened them again, but the body was still there. He brought his fist up to his mouth, fighting back the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. He coughed loudly and took a deep breath, letting anger replace every other feeling.  
  
“It’s not real,” he repeated, more firmly this time, and then turned away and headed in the direction the fairy had went.

* * *

  
  
“Dean! Sam!” Cas called out as he walked along a hallway leading to the range. He regretted not having gone after Dean earlier when he ran off. He thought he had calmed him down, until Dean opened his eyes again and got a strange look on his face, pulling out his knife and then dropping it. He apologized and ran off before Cas could even ask him what he was talking about. He realized he must have seen something that wasn’t really there and that it scared him, so he hadn’t given chase at the time, not wanting to encourage the fear. Instead, he picked up the silver knife Dean dropped and tucked it away next to his own blade, intending on returning it once he found Dean. Unfortunately, finding either Dean or Sam was turning out to be a difficult task.  
  
“Dean! Sam!” he tried again.  
  
“Cas?” he heard Sam call out in reply.  
  
“Sam! Stay where you are, I’ll find you,” he shouted.  
  
“I’m in the armory, next to the range!” Sam informed him.  
  
Cas made his way to the room Sam was in, and when he entered the doorway he was relieved to see him standing there, unharmed. He walked toward him.  
  
“Sam, I--”  
  
“Whoa whoa-- wait. Where’s your candle?” Sam asked suddenly, drawing out his own knife.  
  
Cas stopped, confused for a second before realizing what Sam meant.  
  
“Dean and I are already under the spell,” Cas answered carefully, raising his hands slightly in supplication. “I don’t need the candle as you and Dean do in order to see in the dark, so I left it in another room.”  
  
“I’m sorry man, but I can’t just trust you,” Sam answered, holding the knife up in defense.  
  
Cas pulled his sleeve up and took a step toward Sam. “You can use the silver knife on me and it won’t do anything. That should prove it,” he said.  
  
Sam seemed hesitant, but eventually gestured for Cas to come over to him. Cas did, and Sam took his arm, keeping an eye on him as he did, and then slowly pulled the knife’s edge along the skin, slicing a thin line into it. When Cas didn’t react at all, Sam’s shoulders sagged and he sighed in relief.  
  
“Finally,” he breathed out.  
  
Cas smiled at him. “I’m glad to see you’re alright, Sam,” he said.  
  
“What happened to Dean?” Sam asked, a nagging sense of unease returning to him.  
  
Cas explained the events that took place after they left the bedroom, and when he got to the part where Dean ran off, the concern on Sam’s face grew.  
  
“We’ll find him, Sam, just as I found you,” Cas told him. He really didn’t want a repeat of what happened with Dean.  
  
Sam sighed. “I know we will, Cas.” He leaned forward and gave Cas a hug, which Cas thought  odd but returned.  
  
“We just gotta stay together this time,” Sam said, and before Cas could agree he felt a sharp sensation in his stomach. He backed up quickly a few feet  in surprise and looked down, and first saw red leaching through his shirt, and then saw the knife in Sam’s hand, covered in blood.  
  
“You’re not Sam,” Cas said, the tone in his voice going from surprise to anger quickly at the realization.  
  
Sam backed up, confused. “Cas-- what are you talking about-- of course I am!” he said, looking at Cas with a cautious fear in his voice now.  
  
Cas pulled out his angel blade, and Sam’s eyes fell to it.  
  
“No-- Cas, wait-- you’ve got it wrong--” he tried. Cas hesitated as Sam stood there, unsure whether his actions or words had been the lie, but then suddenly Sam bolted to the side and took off toward the other exit.  
  
Cas chased after him, not wanting to let him escape. He only followed a short distance though before Dean called out to him from the range.  
  
“Cas? I don’t think fairies wear coats like yours so tell me that’s you,” he continued.  
  
Cas stopped, watching as the light from the candle disappeared further down the hall and out of sight around a corner. He sighed.  
  
“Dean, I think I… I might also be affected by the spell,” he said in exasperation. “I’m not sure what to think of anything at this point.”  
  
He walked into the range and saw Dean standing with his hands in his pockets, his candle next to him on the floor. The position of the light caused heavy shadows to form on his face and upper body.  
  
“Dean?” Cas asked in confusion. “What are you doing in here?” He looked at Dean’s waist, trying to get a glimpse of the weapons reflecting in the light, but he didn’t appear to have them on him. He also didn’t have the canister of salt with him. “Where are your weapons?” he asked, this time more carefully, “and the salt?”  
  
The smile that appeared on Dean’s face wasn’t what Cas expected. It was friendly, as if they were having a pleasant conversation.  
  
“Well I figured I don’t need them,” Dean answered. His smile widened, confusing Cas further, until he continued, looking just over Cas’ shoulder “I thought we’d settle whose abilities are stronger right now.”  
  
Cas’ jaw set as he realized he might not be talking to Dean. He stole a glance behind himself and saw the door closed. He tried to calm his own emotions, not wanting to provide the fairy with even so much as apprehension.  
  
“Dean, if this is you, I need you to--”  
  
“Oh no this is definitely not Dean,” Dean replied, and then suddenly Cas was looking at the fairy he’d seen earlier.  
  
“Then prove it,” Cas said, still unsure of what he was seeing. He pulled out his canister of salt but the fairy shut its eyes.  
  
“I don’t need to count anything I can’t see,” it laughed.  
  
Cas waited, but it seemed as though the fairy wasn’t going to open its eyes any time soon. If he were sure it wasn’t Dean, it would be an excellent time to attack. He sighed in frustration.  
  
“Since I can’t seem to tell if you’re in reality Dean or not--”  
  
“Dean is right over there,” the fairy replied, nodding behind it towards the where the cutouts used for firing practice were. “We were just having a little fun together,” it added, a cruel grin spreading across its face.  
  
Cas looked over its shoulder, and his eyes widened when he saw Dean’s body limp and tied to the front of one of the cutouts, bloody and riddled with bullet holes.  
  
“Dean--”  
  
“You should have seen the anger and fear on his face-- heard it in his voice!” the fairy told him gleefully. “How he cried out for the both of you? It was deliciou--”  
  
It was cut off by Cas grabbing its head. It struggled, grabbing his wrist and trying to push his hand away, but the struggling stopped as light erupted from it. Cas pulled his hand away to let it crumple to the ground, expecting it to be finished. It was Dean’s body that fell away from his hand though, and a jolt of panic raced through him at the sight. He quickly looked back towards where he had seen Dean’s body before, but nothing was there. He looked back down at the body in front of him, and it was still Dean’s. Smoke poured from his eye sockets, now empty and ringed with burnt flesh.  
  
“Dean…” he trailed off, his throat tightening around the name.  
  
He knelt down, brushing a hand down his cheek, feeling the skin growing cold beneath his fingers and a sharp pain building in his chest. He took a breath and told himself it had to be an illusion. He didn’t resist Naomi’s control over him so that a fairy could somehow deceive him into killing Dean. He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them, wanting something to be different to support that, but the body in front of him hadn’t changed. Cas shakily got to his feet again, anger and sorrow churning inside him despite any reasoning. However, at least there was shred of hope that he was right, that this was an illusion as the first one had been. He held tightly onto that hope and left the range.

* * *

  
  
“Cas! Dean! One of them’s not a--” Sam called out, breathless, as he burst into the bedroom where he had expected them to be waiting. They weren’t there, and he looked around the room in frustration.  
  
“Really Dean?!” he complained under his breath, not having much doubt that leaving the room had been at least mostly his brother’s decision.  
  
He left the room and headed back toward the kitchen. It had taken him longer than he wanted to get back, after having had to take a detour around the other parts of the bunker to avoid the ghost--a freaking _ghost_ of all things-- but he didn’t think Dean and Cas would leave the room without him. When he got to the kitchen and found it empty, he groaned. Of course they wouldn’t be there either. He stopped for a minute, debating whether he should look for them or return to the room, or just look around for the fairy on his own.  
  
After a few minutes, he turned to head back towards the bedroom. He wouldn’t be able to see the fairy if it didn’t want him to see it, so going up against it without either Cas or Dean didn’t sound like a great idea. He was nearly there when he spotted a small pile of blankets on the floor that hadn’t been there earlier.  
  
“Huh…” he said in confusion, and then continued on his way, figuring finding the others was more important at the moment than whatever was going on there.  
  
He reached the bedroom easily, ignoring the sound of whispering that had started up again. Now that he was fairly confident in his ability to avoid the fairy and its ghost, he was able to keep its tricks from getting to him, even when it tried fabricating a sense fear within him with that frequency Cas said it had been creating. He took a seat on the bed and poured out some salt just mostly around its perimeter, making sure it wasn’t enough to count as a forfeit, and waited.  
  
After some time, he thought he heard Dean calling out for him.  
  
“I’m in here!” he shouted out, “back in the Room 1!”  
  
He waited what felt like a handful more minutes before sighing again and, getting up from the bed, leaving the room in the direction he heard Dean’s voice.  
  
“Dean?” he called out carefully. He reached the blanket again, and this time it was soaking wet, the floor around it slippery with what he hoped was water.  
  
“What the hell?”  
  
He saw the light from a candle fade out as whoever held it walked further away, so he followed it. He jogged to get closer and saw it was Dean, so he called out. To his confusion, Dean continued walking as though he hadn’t heard him. Sam tried again, calling his name louder this time and moving right next to him, but there was still no response. He waved a hand slowly in front of his face, but Dean kept his eyes straight ahead. Sam stopped, watching Dean continue forwards, wondering if maybe he’d already lost. If that was the case, it might be better to avoid him… At the same time, the whole point of sticking together was to avoid being tricked into attacking each other. He was debating following Dean when he realized the light from Dean’s candle was no longer in front of him, probably having turned a corner. He lightly ran forward, and rounded a corner he thought Dean might have gone down, but he’d already completely lost sight of it.  
  
“Hello?!” he called out. “Cas?! Dean?!”  
  
He rubbed at his temples with his free hand and decided to continue after it, hoping he’d run into Dean again, or maybe Cas. After a few minutes, he reached the armory and stopped. They did have guns and silver bullets. At this point, maybe that would be a good idea once they met up with each other again. He walked inside and after just a second heard Cas calling out for him. He called out to him in reply, and shortly, a figure appeared at the edge of his light in the doorway. Faintly it appeared to be Cas, but for some reason he didn’t have his candle with him. He hadn’t been sure if he’d relighted his candle in time earlier in the kitchen, so he needed to be sure it wasn’t a trick.    
  
“Sam, I--”  
  
“Whoa whoa-- wait. Where’s your candle?” Sam asked, pulling his knife out to be on the safe side.    
  
Cas--or not Cas, Sam wasn’t sure--stopped in the doorway.  
  
“Dean and I are already under the spell,” he answered, raising his hands up. “Remember, I don’t need the candle as you and Dean do in order to see in the dark, so I left it in another room.”  
  
“I’m sorry man, but I can’t just trust you,” Sam told him. His heart beat a little faster at the thought that Dean had been under the fairy’s spell, if that really had been Dean, and that his encounter with him was probably a close call. He started to regret having left to get the extra salt in the first place. He wasn’t sure how they were going to meet up now if they were all possibly under the fairy’s spell.  
  
Cas pulled his sleeve up and took a step toward Sam. “You can use the silver knife on me and it won’t do anything. That should prove it,” he said.  
  
Sam hesitated, considering the possibility that it was a trap to lure him closer. Cas’ face had an earnest expression on it though, so he decided to risk it and gestured for Cas to approach him. He did, and Sam took his arm, keeping an eye on him as he did, and then slowly cut into him arm with the knife. When Cas didn’t react at all, Sam let himself relax and sighed in relief.  
  
“Finally,” he breathed out.  
  
Cas smiled at him. “I’m glad to see you’re alright, Sam,” he said.  
  
“What happened to Dean?” Sam asked, thinking maybe he had relaxed too soon.  
  
Cas told him how they had left to look for him, wanting to make sure he was alright, and about their encounter with the ghost. Sam really regretted leaving the room then, and the feeling ached dully in his chest.  
  
“We’ll find him, Sam, just as I found you,” Cas said, and the tone of his voice was reassuring, giving Sam more confidence in their screwed up situation.  
  
He sighed. “I know we will, Cas,” he replied. He leaned forward to give Cas a hug, trying to return the reassurance in some way, and was happy when Cas returned it.  
  
“We just gotta stay together this time,” Sam said, but then Cas pulled away from him sharply, stepping back a few feet. He looked down at himself, and then back at the knife still in Sam’s hand.  
  
“You’re not Sam,” Cas said.  
  
Sam backed up, confused and starting to become wary of the situation. “Cas-- what are you talking about-- of course I am!” he tried.  
  
Cas pulled out his angel blade, ignoring Sam’s words.  
  
“No-- Cas, wait-- you’ve got it wrong--” he tried again. “Here-- try the silver on me!” he added, pulling up his own shirt sleeve and holding his arm out. Cas didn’t seem to be listening, and Sam had a feeling he wasn’t going to listen though, so without waiting another second he bolted for the armory’s second entrance, grateful for his life that it was large enough to warrant two in the first place.  
  
He heard Cas give chase after him, but he kept running. He saw light spilling out of the doorway to the range, and stopped at it, hoping it would be Dean and that maybe this could all be cleared up. Instead, it was one of the cutouts with a candle next to it. He didn’t have time to wonder what the hell was going on though, and he took off again, rounding the first corner he came across and not stopping until he heard Cas’ voice carrying faintly down the hall, talking to someone. He tried to listen to make out what Cas was saying, trying to determine whether he found Dean or the fairy or the ghost, but it was no use. He took a breath, and prepared himself to go find out just to make sure it wasn’t Dean he’d left back there, when he caught sight of a candle light briefly in the other direction. Satisfied with that as his answer, he decided to head toward it instead.  
  
As he moved in the direction he’d seen the light in, a chill ran down his spine at the thought that Dean’s concern before might be right in that if they didn’t find and kill this fairy soon, they might wind up killing or badly hurting each other instead. The oppressive darkness that hugged the very edge of his candle’s light didn’t help, and made him more anxious about a possible surprise attack-- if not from the fairy or its apparent ghostly companion, then from Cas or Dean. Or he might find them already hurt. ...So much for not letting things get to you, he thought.  
  
He shook the thoughts from his mind as best he could and kept moving. He walked into a cold spot and kept on going, focusing on finding who was hopefully Dean carrying the candle, and hoping he’d be able to reason with him. Starting with a silver test might help with that.  
  
At one point his candle went out, so he stopped briefly to relight it. His hands started to shake as he was hit by a sudden wave of foreboding and fear, but he kept a firm grip on his lighter reminding himself that if he was in fact still in the game, then he would be fine as long as he kept following its rules. Soon, he caught up, and he saw a faint yellow glow partly illuminating a section of the library visible through its doorway. He cautiously walked up to the  door and called out.  
  
“...Dean…?”  
  
He heard a chair scrape the floor loudly, having apparently been moved quickly. He peeked around the entrance, and saw Dean facing him, eyes wide.  
  
“Sam?!” he called in reply.  
  
“Dean!” Sam shouted, “Dean no matter what you think you see or whatever, I _am_ me, ok?”  
  
“Just get over here already!” Dean replied in a loud whisper. He sounded hopeful, even excited. He probably was looking for them as long as Sam had been.  
  
Sam carefully moved to the table Dean was near, and slowly placed his candle and salt canister down. Dean was watching him with just as much caution, but he backed up when he saw the knife still in Sam’s hand.  
  
“Relax, I’m just going to use the knife on my arm so we can get that out of the way before anything else happens,” Sam assured him, speaking slowly and calmly as he lifted it to his shirt to wipe the blood from the edge.  
  
“That your blood?” Dean asked, a mixture of suspicion and worry on his face.  
  
“No, it’s Cas’,” Sam answered, and then quickly, before Dean could get the wrong idea, added, “I used it to make sure he really was Cas, since he didn’t keep his candle with him after you two lost.” He quickly made a cut on his arm to show Dean he could be trusted at the very least not to be the fairy.  
  
The suspicion left Dean’s face then, leaving only the worry. “Is Cas alright?” he asked.    
  
Sam shrugged and held the knife out for Dean to take it. “He should be. He thought I was the fairy or something and attacked me, so I ran. Then I heard him stop and talk to someone else, so with any luck, he already killed it and we can just call this whole thing done,” he said, feeling a little guilty he wasn’t more concerned about him. If he hadn’t found Dean here, then he’d be more concerned. But Cas was stronger than both of them and he trusted him.  
  
Dean took the knife and bit his lip, seeming unsatisfied with the idea of Cas being by himself. “So he told you what happened… You still in the game?” he asked Sam as he also made a cut with the knife.  
  
“I don’t know,” Sam answered, shrugging, “I mean, I think so... I haven’t had anything happen to me except seeing some weird shit, but it was weird, _real_ shit at least. Like a… a wet blanket on the floor near the bedroom, and a firing range cutout that had what I’m guessing was Cas’ candle.”  
  
To Sam’s surprise, Dean laughed a little bitterly. “It was a fucking blanket,” he said, shaking his head. His expression fell after that though, becoming more serious. Before Sam could question him, he pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re ok, Sammy,” he said, a tension in his voice that made Sam hug him more.  
  
“So I’m guessing losing kind of sucks then,” Sam commented, hoping the lighter tone would help.

“Yeah, kinda,” Dean chuckled darkly, pulling away from the hug, “and I can’t tell what’s what. I mean, the only reason I can trust you right now is you got your candle and the silver didn’t burn you or anything.”  
  
Sam laughed. “Me too, when Cas and I found each other earlier,” he replied.  
  
Dean fidgeted with the edge of the table.  
  
Sam gave him a pitying look. “We could… try and go look for him--”  
  
“No,” Dean cut him off, “That… that’s what got us lost on shit creek to begin with Sam, so no thanks. Besides, he’s probably safer without me out there looking, and you-- well, getting away from Cas didn’t help before, so I figure doing the same thing twice isn’t gonna’ help us either.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re probably right...” Sam agreed.  
  
“I’m definitely ri--”  
  
“Dean!” Cas cried out from the doorway.  
  
“Cas?” they both asked at the same time.  
  
“We’re both... _us_ ,” Sam said right away, gesturing between himself and Dean. “Are you… _you_ ?”  
  
Cas didn’t answer, and instead stared at Dean, his eyes filled with the same hope and relief that Dean’s voice had held earlier. Sam was curious what they’d seen, but now wasn’t the time to ask. Cas moved quickly over to them, and still not answering Sam’s question embraced Dean.

“Right, so I’m taking that as a yes,” Sam noted, standing awkwardly to the side.  
  
Dean cleared his throat a little, but he wrapped his arms around Cas, pulling him in just a little closer.  
  
A few more seconds passed with them quietly like this, before Cas pulled away slightly, keeping his hands on Dean’s shoulders. “You don’t know how relieved I am that you’re safe,” he said, and then looking over at Sam added, “that you both are.”  
  
“We’re glad you are too,” Dean replied.  
  
Cas stepped away and turned to face Sam fully, and pulled him into a hug as well. “Sam, if that was you earlier--”  
  
“It was.”  
  
“Sam, I… I’m sorry I threatened you. I wasn’t sure if you had been telling the truth, and when you ran from me I didn’t want to let you out of my sight until I was sure,” Cas apologized.  
  
“So you must not have heard me offer to test the silver on myself,” Sam chuckled.  
  
Cas pulled back enough to look at Sam with guilt and concern, and Sam felt bad, having intended to imply that it was ok and as Dean said, he was really just as glad to see them alright.  
  
“I didn’t hear you say anything like that,” Cas answered him, stepping away. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“It’s fine, Cas,” Sam reassured him, patting him on the shoulder and smiling to emphasize it. Cas nodded once and smiled back in reply.  
  
A few moments passed with the three of them standing around the library table before Dean let out a long sigh.  
  
“So we’re back to square one,” he grumbled.  
  
“Well at least we now know that we only have to kill one fairy,” Cas supplied.  
  
“Yeah, if we can freaking get to it,” Dean complained.  
  
“And we don’t have any ideas about that,” Sam added.  
  
Another minute went by in silence as they each considered how they were going to take down the fairy. Finally, Cas spoke up.  
  
“We could stay together and try to make a sweep through the bunker. We’re bound to encounter it at some point,” he suggested.  
  
Dean chewed his bottom lip. “Yeah but… it was easy enough for us to avoid each other and we were _trying_ to find each other,” he said.  
  
“We could try to limit its movements by spreading lines of salt along the floor as we walk,” Sam added to Cas’ idea. “I mean, it doesn’t really matter now if it’s counted as provoking it or not.”    
  
Dean still seemed hesitant, but eventually relented. “I guess it’s the only plan we have right now,” he said. He sighed tiredly, picking up the canister and handing it to Sam. “Let’s all head back to the kitchen together and get the salt cans.”  
  
“Sure,” Sam said, “Let’s start here though.” He flipped the canister open, and not wanting to actually move over the several feet to the doorway, he lazily sent a spray of salt flying in its general direction.  
  
“Sam, we’re gonna’ have to clean that up later,” Dean complained, throwing his hands in the air and letting them fall back down to his sides. “At least keep it in a line like you said!”  
  
Sam shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m more concerned with finding the--”  
  
“Stop talking--” Cas said suddenly, holding his hand toward Sam in a quieting gesture.  
  
They looked at him in confusion, but he kept his focus on the doorway where Sam had thrown the salt.  
  
“Listen,” he continued, and motioned for them to follow him a little bit closer to the doorway.  
  
Sam and Dean grabbed their candles and followed. They strained their ears, and at first they didn’t hear anything. But as they got closer, they heard a voice whispering softly.  
  
“Six… seven… eight”  
  
Dean looked at Sam in disbelief.  
  
“You gotta be kidding me.”  
  
They moved closer, and the light from the candles illuminated the fairy, crouching down and counting each individual grain of salt.  
  
“Nine… ten… eleven…”  
  
It looked up at them, an angry scowl on its face. The ghost appeared behind it, but it was already too late for the fairy, who seemed unable to control it while it counted.  
  
Sam laughed. “I’m assuming you guys can see it, so I’ll let you do the honors since I got the leprechaun last time,” he told them, dumping more salt along the floor for good measure.  
  
“With pleasure,” Cas replied.  
  
“Wait--” Dean said, stopping Cas as he pulled out his angel blade. Cas looked at him curiously.  
  
“You can get dibs on knifing it, but I can’t just let you have all the fun,” Dean said, and then turning quickly, punched the fairy in the face with a hard right hook.  
  
He shook his fist out, a satisfied smirk on his face. Without waiting further, Cas lifted the fairy up and plunged the blade into its chest. It screeched, and light crackled around it and behind its eyes. Cas let it go, and as it fell to the floor, the same light crackled around the ghost standing nonchalantly at the edge of the light as it had done the whole game. Whispers started up around them again, and they readied themselves for a fight until one of them, clearer than the rest, sounded as if it said “thank you”. Sam lowered his salt canister. They watched as a soft light surrounded the ghost, and it was gone.  
  
“Is-- is that it?” Dean asked hesitantly.  
  
“It appears that killing the fairy freed the spirit that it cursed, so that’s it,” Cas answered him. “We won.”  
  
“ _Finally_ ,” Dean said happily.

* * *

  
  
It took almost another hour, but eventually they got all the lights back on throughout the bunker that should have been on. They also took the fairy’s body outside and burned it to dispose of it. Now, they were standing in the library again.  
  
“So uh, what happened with you both?” Sam asked, his curiosity getting the better of him now that they weren’t in danger.  
  
Dean yawned. “Let’s talk about it in the morning Sam,” he said, and then before Sam could reply he pulled him into another quick hug.  
  
“Um, ok…” Sam said, patting Dean’s back as he hugged him in return.  
  
They were about to pull away when suddenly both of them were dragged into another hug from Cas.  
  
“Ok,” Dean chuckled, “I guess we’re a bunch of schoolgirls.” Still, he reached his arms around them to make it a better group hug, as did Sam.  
  
“I’m glad we didn’t kill each other,” Cas said.  
  
“Me too,” Dean agreed.  
  
“Same here,” Sam agreed.  
  
They stayed like that for a few more moments, and then slowly pulled away.  
  
“Well, I’m gonna’ call it a night… or, morning or whatever,” Dean said.  
  
“Alright,” Sam replied. “I think I will too. You good, Cas?”  
  
Cas nodded. “You two get some rest. And Sam,” he said, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder, “I meant what I said yesterday when we watched the horror movie with the clowns. I won’t let any such thing harm either of you, so sleep well.”  
  
Sam frowned at the reminder of the movie and sighed. “Thanks… Cas,” he said, trying his best to half smile while Dean was grinning. He’d apparently been the only one not to have fallen under the fairy’s spell, so he supposed it was far enough. For that matter, he didn’t need to get back at Dean anymore either.  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
At that Sam couldn’t help but smile.  
  
They said goodnight to each other, and headed to their rooms.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [Supernatural Canon Big Bang](https://spncanonbigbang.tumblr.com/) 2017! It's my first time writing for a bang in general. This was at first intended to be a big bang, but wound up being submitted as a very long mini bang because I wasn't expecting it to reach the minimum word count. Which of course it then exceeded while I was finishing it, so now it's a very very long mini bang. :P
> 
> So this fic sort of went in a bit of a different direction than I had initially planned due to a certain thing in a certain season finale, but I hope it's still alright! Also, for those who don't know it, the game they played is an actual game you can also play. I just tinkered with it a bit to make it fit with the story more.


End file.
